Coming Into the Light
by Basketballgirl Kaitlin
Summary: Sequel to ColHogan's 'Lost In the Darkness! Six months have gone by since Hogan left for medical care in London. As the men of Stalag 13 have gotten back to usual routine and everyday life, Major Hochstetter comes one night to visit Klink, and Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter are faced with their worst nightmare once again. *2017 PBA Nominee! :D
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Well, gee whiz! Has it been a long time since I've been writing for this fandom or what?! I'm excited to be back after an over a year break from writing and posting stories on this site. My first year of college is over, I've gotten lots of advice from other writers from this fandom and other ones, and I'm hopeful that it has made my writing stronger and more profound than it was before. Well, to start my run back into the 'Hogan's Heroes' world, I'll begin with something I've been putting my heart and soul into for over a year, now. It's the sequel to ColHogan's 'Lost In the Darkness' (if you hadn't read that, already). Kind of my salute to her for being an awesome role model and hope to follow in her footsteps as I grow older and write more and more. I'm gonna shut up now, and let you guys read. Glad to be back, and I hope you enjoy 'Coming Into the Light'!

* * *

 **Chapter 1:**

Summertime; the season where everyone was in a good mood and busy with either socializing, playing sports, planning activities, or whatever else that happened to come up. The weather was generally pleasant to be outside, except for the occasional thunderstorms that passed by every once in awhile.

It was the middle of July, and in Stalag 13, there was a volleyball tournament currently going on. All teams consisted of six prisoners each. It was down to the final four, and Carter and Newkirk's team were one of them. Kinch and LeBeau stood in the shade watching the game go on. LeBeau was cheering and clapping his hands for his friends, while Kinch simply smiled and watched back and forth between their team and the opposing one.

Carter set the ball, and Newkirk used his famously known spike and scored another point for his team. The score was now 22-24: game point.

LeBeau cheered louder and clapped his hands. He was hoping Newkirk and Carter would win and move on to the championship game. By how the game had been going for the evening, the little Frenchman was pretty confident that his wish would become reality.

A staff sergeant, Maxwell Segal, who also roomed in barracks two, served the volleyball and started what LeBeau and Kinch hoped was the last round. They wanted to declare Carter and Newkirk's team the winners and send them to the championship.

As the game continued, Baker came out of the barracks holding a piece of paper. He tapped Kinch on the shoulder and handed him the note. Kinch read it, nodded, and handed it back to Baker. Baker went back inside the barracks, where he was monitoring the radio in the tunnels, and closed the door behind him. Kinch sighed, then turned his attention back to the game and smiled again.

Carter set the ball high in the air, hoping Newkirk's next spike would win it.

"Get it, Newkirk!" Segal yelled.

Newkirk made a running start, jumped up, and smacked the ball. Another prisoner on the opposite team went diving for the ball, but he landed on the ground three seconds too late. The ball had hit the ground and bounced off to another prisoner on his team.

LeBeau cheered, jumping up and down. Kinch was clapping his hands and smiling.

"Yeah, Newkirk!" The sergeant cheered.

Newkirk looked over at LeBeau and Kinch and smiled, waving at both of them. After high fiving everyone on the opposing team for a good game, Carter and Newkirk made their way to their friends.

"That was _great_ , Pierre," LeBeau said beaming.

"Thanks, Louis," Newkirk said blushing.

"Good game, guys. You did well," Kinch said.

"I say we all celebrate. Louis could make a special dinner for the four of us," Carter said with glee.

"Oh, Louis; can yah make that special chocolate cake?" Newkirk asked, dreaming of the excellent delicacy.

"I will see what I can do, Pierre." LeBeau replied, smiling. He then turned to Kinch with a more serious look on his face and changed the topic of conversation. "Hey, Kinch; what was that note that Baker gave you about?"

"Is it about the Colonel?" Carter asked.

"I'd like to hear this, Andrew," Newkirk said, crossing his arms.

Kinch looked to make sure no one else was around. Still feeling slightly uneasy, he turned back to look at the three of them.

"Let's take this inside, shall we?" He asked.

The three nodded and followed Kinch inside and to the small room in the barracks. Carter closed the door and sat down in the desk chair. Newkirk and LeBeau sat down on the lower bunk, and the tall sergeant stood in front of the window.

"What's going on here, mate?" Newkirk asked.

Kinch sighed and began speaking.

"First, it's not about Colonel Hogan. It's not even from London. I got a message from the underground...and it wasn't the pleasant of messages."

"What did it say, _mon ami_?" LeBeau asked, relieved and saddened it was not from London or about Hogan.

"Something about the ball bearing plant we blew up last week?" Carter asked.

"No...nothing involving a mission of ours...but it does involve someone." Kinch answered, being vague.

The three men before Kinch looked at one another, then back at him again.

"What are you saying, mate?" Newkirk asked, growing leery.

"...It's Major Hochstetter. The Gestapo have been investigating the area for the past four weeks and are growing suspicious. He's expected to make a surprise visit to Klink sometime tomorrow evening."

"Great; what's that bloody Kraut want _now_?" Newkirk moaned.

"Wasn't the surprise visit he made two weeks ago enough for him?" LeBeau sneered.

The four men hated whenever Major Wolfgang Hochstetter showed up around Stalag 13. It always meant trouble for the four. Heck, even Kommandant Wilhelm Klink shivered in his boots whenever the Gestapo officer showed up unexpectedly. But then again, Klink _always_ shivered in his boots regarding someone from the Gestapo.

"I don't know, but Harold said it didn't sound like Hochstetter's in a good mood," Kinch replied, crossing his arms.

"Wonder what he could want; we haven't done anything much recently besides one sabotage assignment," Carter said, trying to think of an explanation.

"It's Major Hochstetter, André; he doesn't _need_ a reason to show up." LeBeau groaned.

"I bet it's just to snitch to Klink about another sabotage by the Allies." Newkirk replied.

Carter sighed and began to frown.

Kinch looked at the young sergeant.

"What's wrong, Carter? You look sad," Kinch said with sympathy.

"It'll be alright, mate; we've dealt with Hochstetter more than once. It's a piece of cake by now to handle him," Newkirk said, giving a friendly smile.

"No, it's not that...it's just...it's just today, is all," Carter sadly said.

At first, it did not register in any of their minds as to what Carter was talking about. After having it roll around a couple of times in his head, it dawned on Kinch _exactly_ what the young man was referring to.

"Oh yeah...today marks six months since the Colonel left."

Colonel Robert Hogan had been taken to London six months ago due to the loss of his godson, Terry Carpenter. It had made him mentally snap along with the guilt he had developed due to a bridge explosion gone wrong that had been assigned by London. Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau had him flown to London to be treated in a psychiatric hospital, knowing the ones in Germany that he had originally been assigned to travel to ended in dire consequences...mostly the deaths of their patients from torture and abuse.

"God...has it been six months already?" Newkirk asked, in shock. He could not believe they had now been living without Hogan for half a year now.

"I can't believe we've survived six months already without _mon Colonel_ ," LeBeau sadly said, hanging his head.

"I miss him, guys." Carter sighed.

Kinch gave the young sergeant a sympathetic look, walked over to his friend, and he gently patted his shoulder.

"I know...I know...we all miss him, Carter."

"I wonder how he's doing. We haven't heard from London since the second week the Gov'nor first left," Newkirk said.

"Either nothing has changed regarding his condition, or nothing worse has happened," LeBeau said, putting a hand on his chin.

"I keep hoping he'll someday just walk in here, and he'll be alright and healthy, again," Carter whimpered.

"We all want that, Andrew...but you know we can't do that this time. The Gov'nor's not healthy or safe here in his current medical condition, and everyone believes he's dead. Sadly, there's no way for us to bring him back again," Newkirk said, wishing there was some God given solution to enable them to bring Hogan back without any suspicion or harm. All of them wanted that, but they knew it was just not logical this time.

"I miss his smile...and his wisecracks he'd make to us and Klink," LeBeau said, smiling sadly as he remembered his beloved friend and commanding officer.

Kinch smirked.

"I miss his sense of humor. He always knew how to put a smile on someone's face."

"I miss the way he would always watch us play sports and his crazy yet ingenious ideas for assignments," Newkirk said, recalling his own happier memories with Hogan.

"I miss talking to him and his advice...and him always saying 'Shut up, Carter' to my idiotic ideas," Carter said.

"Not all your ideas are idiotic, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau replied.

"Yeah, don't beat yourself up like that, Andrew. I mean, who else would've gave the Colonel the idea to send Adolf Hitler to camp and scare Klink right out of his boots?" Newkirk asked, smiling small. (1)

Carter gave a sad smile and turned his head slightly to the left as he continued thinking of Hogan.

"I wish I could see him just one more time." He quivered, swallowing a knot in his throat. Kinch continued rubbing the young sergeant's back.

The four men sighed as they continued recalling past memories of their well loved commanding officer and best friend.

* * *

The next night came by faster than anyone could imagine. Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau were outside in front of the barracks. LeBeau sat on the bench besides Carter, Newkirk was smoking a cigarette, and Kinch was standing besides the Englishman watching the other prisoners wrap up their activities for the evening, when they saw a staff car with Gestapo flags flapping in the early night breeze.

"Looks like we got company, guys," Kinch said, turning his head to the three besides him.

The three got up and surrounded Kinch, as they watched Hochstetter step out of the car and returned Schultz's salute.

"I wonder what he wants," LeBeau said, as he pondered possibilities in his mind.

"I don't know, but by the look on his face, he wasn't all too happy," Carter observed.

"When's Hochstetter _ever_ happy?" Newkirk replied, a hint of irritation in his voice.

The big guard followed the major up the steps, into the Kommandantur, and into Klink's office.

"Guys, I think it's time for our evening coffee break," Kinch said.

"Right, Kinch," Newkirk replied.

The four of them hurried inside the private room in the corner of the barracks to turn on the coffee pot, and listen in on Klink and Hochstetter.

* * *

(1) Carter dressed up as and impersonated Germany's leader, Adolf Hitler, in the second season in the episode "Will the Real Adolf Please Stand Up?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Hochstetter opened Klink's door without knocking. He turned to face the colonel, his face a slight pinkish color.

"Klink!" Hochstetter bellowed.

Klink, who was working on paperwork, jumped from his seat into a standing position and saluted Hochstetter sharply. Schultz walked in, stood by the doorway, and kept guard to make sure no one else entered the room. The angry Gestapo officer made his way in front of Klink's desk and looked the old Kommandant coldly in the eyes.

"I hope you know where he is for _your_ sake, Klink," Hochstetter snarled.

Klink gulped and shook in fear. Mainly for the purpose that he had no idea why Hochstetter was here nor what he was talking about.

"Major Hochstetter, as much as I appreciate the Gestapo and everything they do...I'm sorry to say I have no idea what you're talking about," Klink trembled.

"I didn't think you would, so I'll _tell_ you what I'm talking about!" Hochstetter growled.

Klink shivered and nodded quickly.

"Proceed, Major," Klink said, as if he did not have a choice, which, unfortunately, he did not.

"Klink, where is he?" Hochstetter snarled.

"I don't know, Major...he who?" Klink asked dumbfounded.

"Hogan, Klink; don't act stupid with me! Where is he?!"

"Major...Colonel Hogan's been dead for six months...he was shot trying to escape from custody as he was being taken to Hadamar Psychiatric Institute."

Inside, Klink felt sick to his stomach every time he thought of his late Senior POW Officer and the way he died. It made him feel awful and guilty. The Kommandant felt that he could and should have done something for Hogan, but had failed to do so. He had lost his only friend he felt he had, even if he was the enemy. With Hochstetter there, however, the only thing he could feel was ultimate terror and fear.

"BAH! I know he's out there somewhere!" Hochstetter bellowed.

"Major...weren't you ever notified by the men who were responsible for transporting him there?" Klink asked.

"No...and your precious General Burkhalter was not notified apparently, either!"

Klink swallowed a knot that was beginning to form inside of his throat.

"I was never aware of these cases, Major," he said softly.

"Let me ask you something, Klink. Did you ever receive a death certificate for Hogan's death?" Hochstetter questioned.

"Of course, Major. It's right uh...it's uh…" Klink stopped and thought to himself. Where on earth had he put the thing? Was it in Hogan's records? Did he ever receive a death certificate for Hogan's death? His mind was completely blanking on as to where it was and if it even came to him. The Kommandant gulped and began shaking tremendously. "I don't know where it is, Major."

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" Hochstetter asked.

"I don't remember doing anything with it...I'm not even sure if I got it from anyone, Major." Klink began.

"Well, don't just stand there! Check his files you have on him!"

"Yes sir, Major!"

Klink hurried out to his filing cabinets and started searching frivolously through folders and portfolios. He finally found Hogan's red folder and started rampaging through pages and pages of paperwork, documents, and reports on his past Senior POW. He thought he would start screaming as soon as he could not find a death certificate. He flipped through the pages about four times to make sure he did not overlook it. After knowing for sure it was not in the files, Klink hurried back into his office. The old Kommandant started going through the papers on his desk in a chaotic manner. Papers fell on the floor, as he anxiously searched through them looking for the one he needed. He looked at the last paper that remained. It fell to the ground, and he gulped. He turned to face Hochstetter with fear evident on his face.

"I can't find it, Major…" Klink quivered softly.

"Find it suspicious, Klink?" Hochstetter sneered.

"I'm sure it must be around here somewhere, Major. I know I got one a couple weeks after Hogan's death."

"Klink, get this into your brain...if you even have one!"

The kommandant nodded quickly.

"Proceed, Major," Klink whimpered, barely above a whisper. He watched the angry Gestapo agent carefully. He was sure if he took his eyes from him for one second, Hochstetter would do something that Klink would rather be sent to the Russian Front than face.

"Colonel Hogan's death certificate is not anywhere in your office, and I never was sent one to put into my records. On top of that, his body was never brought in nor found at the scene where it took place. I have reason to believe Hogan's still in Germany somewhere, and General Burkhalter has already gave me permission to start a search for him and reward whoever finds him...dead or _alive_!" Hochstetter snapped.

Klink merely gulped. He was on the verge of suffering a panic attack.

"Yes, Major...I think it's an excellent idea, Major," he softly said.

"I thought you would think so, Klink. And if I find out that you're hiding him somewhere in this camp…" Hochstetter paused and leaned closer to Klink and looked him straight in the eyes. "You'll wish to be sent to the Russian Front."

"Yes, Major," Klink replied, swallowing the knot in his throat.

Hochstetter stood there a moment longer, then stormed out of Klink's office slamming the door. As soon as he was sure the major was gone, Klink slid back into his chair and trembled violently. He quickly grabbed his glass of brandy and gulped it down quickly. He then almost as quickly poured himself another glass.

* * *

Kinch unplugged the coffee pot, put it away, then turned to the three men under his command. All three of them were silent and trying to comprehend what they had just heard.

Newkirk started rubbing his neck with a slight expression of worry on his face.

"We never considered making a death certificate, did we?" He asked, trying to hide the concern he was growing.

Kinch sighed.

"No...we didn't, did we," The radioman said, looking at the floor thinking.

"I guess we were so worried about getting the Colonel out of Germany, it must have slipped our minds," Carter said, looking down at his feet.

"Great...just great; now what?" LeBeau asked irritated.

"We need to get enough proof to fool Hochstetter that the Colonel's dead," Kinch said, trying to think of an idea.

"Well, where are we gonna get a body that looks exactly like the Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked sardonically. "You suggest we go out and kill someone?"

"I say we get rid of Hochstetter." LeBeau made a slicing motion with his hand across his neck.

"We're not killing anybody. We'll have to take a different approach," Kinch ordered.

"Why don't we just make a death certificate and have someone deliver it to Klink?" Carter asked innocently.

"With what explanation, Andrew? There's no way to explain it without growing suspicion. Even Klink would start to have second thoughts," Newkirk replied. The Englishman was highly annoyed with Hochstetter. Why could that man not leave anything be or accept anything for what it was? Especially when it came to Hogan? All of them knew Hochstetter had a major obsession with their former commanding officer, but none of them could understand why the man felt the need to continue dreading over it...especially now that six months had gone by, and most of them were starting to pick up on where they left off on in life again.

Carter let his shoulders fall and stood there frowning. He was absolutely stumped on what they could do.

"Should we warn London on what's going on?" LeBeau asked.

"No...not yet, anyways," Kinch replied, trying to think.

"What do we do, mate?" Newkirk asked.

"For the moment...I have no idea."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

The weather in London was mucky and grim. It had been raining for the past three days, and today was especially bad. There were severe thunderstorms booming across the entire city.

In a psychiatric hospital, Colonel Robert Hogan was sitting in a chair in his room reading a book as he listened to the rain and thunder. He was wearing brown pants, brown shoes, and a blue striped button up shirt. He looked up, as soon as he heard the door click and open. His doctor, Dr. Walter Andrews, walked in smiling and carrying a clipboard.

The man was a tad older than Hogan. Around mid 40s to early 50s. He had grayish brown hair, a mustache that matched, and grayish blue eyes.

"Well, Robert; how are you feeling, today?" Dr. Andrews asked friendly. He had a thick British accent.

Hogan smiled and sighed.

"I'm alright...content, actually," The American officer said, as he put his book in his lap gently.

"You've improved a lot in six months. If you keep it up, I'll discharge you in about another week. I heard General Berkman needs some help in Headquarters," The doctor said.

"It would be a nice change in scenery from this room I'm cooped up in." Hogan chuckled.

"You would say that, yes."

Hogan's smile turned into a sad one, and he turned his head to the window, then sighed.

"You alright, Robert?" Andrews asked worried.

Hogan nodded softly.

"I'm alright, Doctor...I just miss a few people is all," Hogan said.

"Your men back in Germany," He said, knowing the answer already.

The American nodded sadly.

Andrews closed the door and walked over to Hogan. He sat down on Hogan's bed and faced his patient.

"I'm sure they miss you, too, just as much...if not, more." Andrews began.

"I'm worried about them. Are they safe? Are they hurt? Is Hochstetter leaving them be...I don't have answers to any of these questions, Doctor," Hogan said worried.

"I'm sure your men are just fine. By what you've said about them, they sound like a good group of smart guys."

Hogan could not help but smile.

"They are. They're loyal, nice to everyone, and clever...the best commanding team I've ever had," Hogan said, as he reminisced the many happy memories he had with his men before he got sick. He sighed again. "Is it wrong for me to feel like I failed them?"

"You didn't fail them, Robert. It's not your fault for growing ill. All men have breaking points, and you just happened to hit yours."

"I know...I just feel like I could have done something to stop it before it had a chance to get worse."

"There was nothing you could do to stop it, Robert. The minute it happened, there was no chance of stopping it. Neither you nor your men could have done anything different to keep it from happening."

"You sure, Doctor?"

"Positive. The only thing that could help you was specialized medical care, which could not be given to you anywhere in Germany."

"I think it was Hadamar where Klink was sending me...I could be wrong, though. I was in and out of it."

"Nasty place, it is."

"Doctor...do you think I'll see my men again?"

"I wouldn't shut the thought out of mind. I think if your men respect you and care for you as much as they do, they'll do everything they can to see you again."

Hogan smiled at his doctor.

"Thanks," Hogan said sincerely.

Andrews smirked.

"No need to thank me, Robert. I'm simply doing my job as your therapist."

Hogan nodded.

"Well, I've got a few other patients I need to check in with. I'll leave you be to read your book now," Andrews said.

"See you later, Doctor." Hogan replied.

Andrews stood up and walked out of his patient's room.

Alone again, the American picked up his book and began reading again, when his thoughts started to wander and distract him. He could not stop thinking about his men: Carter, LeBeau, Kinch, and Newkirk. He missed LeBeau's cooking and the little Frenchman's excitement to do an assignment. He missed talking to Kinch and staying up late hours of the night waiting for the others to come back from a mission with him. Then there was Newkirk. The Englishman's sarcasm and sense of humor was something he also felt a bit empty without. Newkirk always knew how to make him laugh no matter what the situation was. And Carter, who he could not forget about. His caring attitude and naïveté was acknowledged to be absent. His demolitions expert always told him what a good job he was doing as a commanding officer and that he was the best one around. Even at times where the officer himself did not feel that was true. Hogan could not help but smile. As much as he missed them, they always brought a smile to his face and a reason for him to continue to get better again. Something was bothering him, however. He felt as if something were happening back in Germany; something that was not good for him nor his men he had left behind back in Stalag 13. He was unsure whether or not to listen to that feeling or ignore it. His gut usually did not lie to him, but with everything that had happened since Terry died, he could never be too careful. He decided to ignore it for now, but would address it later if it became an issue.

Sighing, he looked down at his book, smiled, and resumed reading in peace as he listened to the pitter patter of rain on his window and the roaring of the thunder outside.

* * *

Back in Germany, the prisoners of Stalag 13 were doing their usual activities of either socializing with others or playing sports. The opposing volleyball team that Newkirk and Carter's team would take on for the championship game were currently practicing for the upcoming match.

Kinch leaned against the barracks like Hogan had always done and watched the other prisoners. LeBeau was sitting on the bench knitting something that looked like a blanket for his bunk. Carter was making a yo-yo out of wood and string, and Newkirk was smoking a cigarette, as he rolled a soccer ball back and forth with his foot. The four had stayed up half of the night trying to think of what to do regarding Hochstetter. They had to tackle this problem carefully. Anything too big would be suspicious and anything too little would be just as bad.

"I got an idea," Newkirk said, as he took his cigarette out of his mouth. "What if we said that the Gov'nor's body was sent back to the States for burial?"

"No, the Germans may try to contact the Americans. With them not knowing what's going on over here, our cover would be blown the minute the Krauts found out that no one's body had recently been sent back to the States," Kinch replied.

"We could blow up a munitions dump to take the attention off of the Colonel," LeBeau said, as he continued focusing on his knitting.

Kinch took in a breath of air.

"If we did it, Hochstetter would grow assumptions that the Colonel had something to do with it. He would be in more trouble than he was before," the radioman answered.

"Why does this situation gotta be so bloody difficult?" Newkirk moaned, taking another drag on his cigarette.

"I say we get rid of Hochstetter," LeBeau grumbled.

"LeBeau," Kinch warned.

"What? I can't express my opinion now?!" LeBeau replied.

Kinch sighed and laid his head on the side of the barracks. His mind was vacant of any idea. He was standing in front of a brick wall and could not see the other side or what was going on. How he wished Hogan was there at the moment. He always had an idea or some clever scheme to get the guys out of whatever scrap they had gotten themselves into.

"God...if I never thought there was a tougher situation we've dealt with before, this is certainly one of them," Kinch simply said.

Carter gave a small smile and turned to look at his three best friends.

"You guys remember when we had to blow up that ball bearing plant that was so well secured? And how we all thought that it would be impossible to ever accomplish it? The Colonel told us that 'there's no mission that's impossible; you just have to find another way for it to work'," the young sergeant said, remembering his commanding officer's words of wisdom. Remembering Hogan's advice he had given him in the time frame he knew him always helped Carter get through the toughest of times. This situation was one of those times.

LeBeau nodded sadly and put his knitting down.

" _Oui_. The Colonel would not want us to be throwing in the towel so quickly," he said. He began thinking of Hogan's determination and strength to get through difficult situations and suddenly felt stronger.

"But _what_ are we gonna do about it, that's the million dollar question." Newkirk asked.

They all just sat there for what felt like forever in silence. They were brainstorming ideas that would be logical and not incredulous to get Hochstetter to drop the whole thing regarding Hogan and the possibility of him still being in Germany wandering around somewhere. After a long moment of complete silence, Carter broke the silence with a suggestion.

"What if we got Barbara to help us somehow?" (1)

LeBeau gasped.

" _Ma petite chérie_ ," LeBeau said, mesmerized of his love.

"Yah _had_ to bring _her_ up, Andrew?!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"Sorry...I thought it was a good idea," Carter said, growing insecure.

Kinch turned to the young man, and snapped his fingers while smiling at him.

"Carter, that's an _excellent_ idea!" He cried.

"It is?" Carter asked stunned.

"LeBeau, you said Barbara works at the Hofbrau every Thursday night?"

" _Oui_...she sings her angelic voice out to everyone," LeBeau said dreamily.

"Just make sure you don't send Louis. We'll get _nothing_ done that way," Newkirk said agitated.

"Actually, you, Louis, _and_ Carter are going to have to go out and see her," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"Really?" Carter asked, growing excited.

"I need all three of you to go out there and bring back as much information as possible."

"Oh, boy, I can't believe I'm finally gonna meet Barbara!" Carter cheered.

"You'll love her, _mon ami_. She's an angel I tell you," LeBeau said, sure of himself.

Newkirk sighed.

"Don't worry, Kinch... _I'll_ make sure we bring home what you wanna hear." The Englishman groaned, shaking his head disapprovingly.

* * *

(1) Barbara Wagner is an underground member I created and was introduced in my story "Hogan's Heroes: Finding the Silver Lining". A detailed description of her will be in the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

After contacting the underground, the meeting had been set for Thursday evening at 2100 hours. Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter would travel to the Hofbrau as Gestapo officers. Newkirk was a major named Hans Freitag, and both LeBeau and Carter were captains. The three of them entered the restaurant and waved to the bar tender, Norman, or as known by the underground, Black Raven.

"Good evening, sir," Newkirk said, as he lifted his cap. He spoke with a heavy German accent.

Norman nodded.

"Major...Captains...can I assist you in getting anything to drink tonight?" The old man asked.

"No thank you, sir; that won't be necessary." Newkirk replied.

The older man again nodded and let the three men carry out their business.

The Englishman, LeBeau, and Carter made their way to the back of the crowd of German civilians and Gestapo officers. A group of three girls were up on stage singing a jazz song. Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter could not help themselves but occasionally dance to the catchy swing tune.

"When do we get to see Barbara?" The young sergeant asked, softly during an instrumental break.

"You have to save the best for last, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said smiling.

Carter nodded.

Newkirk shook his head.

"God, Andrew," he muttered to himself.

The song eventually ended, and everyone clapped and gave the girls the recognition they deserved.

"Hey look, guys! A table's open," Carter said, pointing to the open table in the middle of the room and off to the left slightly.

The three undercover prisoners sat down at the table and waited for Barbara to come on.

"Wait a minute...how do we know when Barbara's on?" The sergeant asked, suddenly realizing he had no idea of what the lady looked like.

"You'll know, Andrew; believe me. Louis here'll start drooling," Newkirk sneered.

"She may be related to Hochstetter, but she's nothing like that filthy bosche," LeBeau replied, defending the woman he was so madly in love with.

Barbara Wagner, or her code name, Moonlight, was a member of the underground and also the niece of the Gestapo major, Wolfgang Hochstetter. She had helped the men on many assignments and missions before and was deeply saddened to hear of Hogan's ailment and departure to London. She and the other members of the underground had sent their best wishes to Hogan's men and wished them a full recovery from their loss.

The young female had short black hair and green eyes. She was a singer and a very gifted and talented one at it, too. LeBeau had fallen in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her. It had been the same way ever since, and it drove Newkirk up a wall that his friend was in love with a German...especially one related to their arch enemy.

After a brief intermission, a girl fitting Barbara's description wearing a sparkling silver dress and brown sandals walked out on stage and began singing.

"There she is, André," LeBeau said, now in a trance.

Carter listened to her sing for a little while before commenting.

"Wow...you were right, Louis. She's really good,"

"I would never lie about such things, _mon ami_." LeBeau remarked.

Newkirk rolled his eyes and went back to listening to and watching Barbara. The men continued watching her sing and dance on stage, as her performance went on. She at one point winked at LeBeau, knowing his feelings towards her and found it kind of adorable. The little Frenchman blushed and felt like he was floating on cloud nine as soon as she took attention to him.

"She's beautiful," Carter said, amazed at how pretty Hochstetter's niece was.

" _Oui_ ," LeBeau sighed, off in another world.

"Blimey, Andrew," Newkirk grumbled, shaking his head.

The young girl continued smiling and eventually spotted Carter sitting next to LeBeau and Newkirk. She gave a smile to the young sergeant and went back to singing.

"She smiled at me!" The sergeant cheered.

"She does that," LeBeau said, staring out into space.

Barbara finished her number, and everyone clapped. LeBeau stood from his seat and gave a standing ovation. As soon as Newkirk noticed, he yanked the little Frenchman back down into the chair, annoyed with his friend's behavior.

Barbara got off stage and signaled for Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter to come over to the table in the far corner of the restaurant for more privacy. The three men stood up and made their way over to the young girl. Newkirk smiled and shook her hand.

"Barbara, good to see you again," he said, with a smile.

LeBeau was next and took Barbara's hand and kissed it gently.

"You look beautiful tonight, ma chérie," LeBeau said gently.

Barbara smirked and gave the little Frenchman a kiss on the forehead. LeBeau swayed slightly and sat down at the table next to Carter sighing with joy.

"Ah, Barbara, this is our friend, Andrew Carter," Newkirk said, gesturing to the young sergeant.

"How are you?" He asked softly.

"Fine, and yourself?" Barbara asked friendly.

"Oh, I'm alright...you're a really good singer, may I say," Carter blushed, trying to make small talk. He was not sure what to say to someone like Hochstetter's niece. He was self conscious of saying something weird or something she might take offense to on accident.

Barbara could tell the young man seemed a little insecure and smiled friendly.

"Sergeant Carter, say whatever you wish in front of me. I won't mind,"

"Boy...she sure is nice, Louis...a lot more than Hochstetter...no offense," Carter said, quickly fixing his error. He hoped saying something as such about her uncle would not upset her in any way.

Barbara could not help but giggle.

"It's alright; I love my uncle with all my heart, but I can understand what a pain in the neck he can be, sometimes."

"You know the man all too well, mate." Newkirk grumbled, thinking of Hochstetter. Just the thought of the man made his brain hurt.

Barbara sat down in a chair and looked at the three men seriously.

"I'm sure complaining to me about my uncle is not why you three came out here to meet with me tonight," she said, knowing there was another reason.

"Not completely," Newkirk said, sitting down now.

"So, what's going on?"

"It involves the Gov'nor...Papa Bear." The last part he said softly, cautious of anyone sitting nearby or possibly listening in on them.

"Is he alright?"

"That we know of."

"Major Hochstetter is suspicious of the Colonel not being dead due to the lack of evidence found at the place we told the underground to say the Colonel was shot and killed trying to escape." LeBeau added.

Barbara sighed and hung her head back looking up at the ceiling.

"Uncle Wolfgang...you can never let anything go, can you..." She moaned.

"You've noticed," Newkirk remarked, as he already knew the answer.

"I swear the man still dreads over being made fun of in high school...probably executed those people as soon as he became major of the Gestapo," Barbara said, running her fingers through her very short hair.

"It wouldn't surprise me."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Can you get your uncle to back off a little...just until we've figured out a way to prove that the Colonel did, in fact, 'die' that night he was supposed to be transferred to Hadamar?"

"You're asking me to do something mere impossible. Have you met my uncle?"

LeBeau sighed.

"Sadly, yes," The little Frenchman murmured.

"He must have a soft spot for you...you're his niece, after all," Carter said softly.

"Being his niece means nothing. If he ever found out where my true loyalty lies, he would kill me as easily as doing so to one of you," Barbara said, sadly sighing.

"He can't do that to you; you're his family!" Newkirk gasped, shocked at hearing such a thing.

"Uncle Wolfgang loves the Gestapo and his work. That's the only thing he remains loyal to."

"That filthy bosche; I'll never let him hurt you!" LeBeau said defensively.

Barbara gave a small smile at the little Frenchman, her green eyes sparkling.

Newkirk turned to LeBeau and glared at his friend.

"Don't turn this into a love story, Louis," the Englishman warned.

LeBeau gave him a quick glance then focused his attention on his love again.

"I'll do what I can, Newkirk. I can't promise it'll last long, though. I can only go so far before my uncle becomes suspicious." Barbara answered seriously.

Newkirk nodded.

"That's all you can do, mate."

"Just be careful, will you? I don't want someone like you to get hurt," Carter said, slightly worried for the young girl. He felt bad for her. She should not be slightly terrified of her own family and felt that someone nice like her did not deserve to be in such a cruel, bloody war.

Barbara smiled affectionately at Carter.

"Don't worry about me, Sergeant Carter; I've handled my uncle before. Doing it again will be easy as singing for me."

"Oh...well good, then."

"If Major Hochstetter even tries to lay a single finger on you, you let me know...I'll take care of him personally," LeBeau said, starting to punch his fist with one hand.

"Louis," Newkirk warned, starting to grow impatient.

LeBeau stopped and slouched down in his chair.

Barbara rose from her seat and brushed down her dress.

"Well, you three have camp to get back to, and I have a second act to get ready for," Barbara said in a hurry.

Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter all rose.

"Until next time," The Englishman said, shaking hands with the young girl.

"Pleasure to see you again, Newkirk...Carter, I've enjoyed meeting you," Barbara said, now shaking hands with the young sergeant.

"Well gee...thank you, ma'am," the sergeant said, blushing a little bit.

Newkirk rolled his eyes to the heavens.

LeBeau shook hands with Barbara last.

"Until we meet again, _ma chérie_ ," LeBeau said with affection.

Barbara smiled and gave the little Frenchman she found so cute a gentle kiss on the cheek. Then she waved 'goodbye' to the men and headed backstage to prepare for her next act.

Newkirk sighed before he turned to his friends.

"Come on, mates. We gotta get back to Kinch before roll call."

He and Carter started walking off, when they noticed LeBeau was not with him. The Frenchman was still standing where Barbara had left him, smiling like an idiot and swaying from side to side. Newkirk, now just plain pissed off, came back and yanked him away from where he was. LeBeau was still smiling like a moron.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

"Kill his own niece?!" Kinch gasped. Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau had reported to their friend, who had been waiting in the tunnels by the radio for any messages that might have came through. They were all back in their Allied uniforms.

"That's what she said, buddy." Carter answered frowning.

Kinch rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

"Holy cats; who knew the man would be so cruel to even kill his own niece if her secret was exposed," he said stunned.

"Just shows how deranged these bloody Krauts are," Newkirk hissed, crossing his arms.

LeBeau had his eyes closed and was swaying back and forth on his feet.

Kinch looked over and smirked.

"What's up with LeBeau?" the dark sergeant asked, trying to keep from laughing.

Newkirk looked over and glared at LeBeau.

"Louis!" Newkirk barked.

The little Frenchman jumped and returned to reality. He snapped his head to Newkirk and looked at him shocked.

"What?!" LeBeau cried.

"Let me guess...Barbara," Kinch said, smiling at his friend.

LeBeau swooned at the hearing of her name.

" _Oui_ ; she kissed me on the cheek, Kinch! I will never wash my face again!" He replied, still in a bit of the 'honeymoon phase'.

"We'll never get anything done, if I keep bringing Louis here every time we have to meet with Barbara." Newkirk moaned. Despite the fact that he felt bad that the girl's own uncle would kill her if he found out about where her true values lied, the Englishman was still extremely irritated with the fact that one of his three best friends were in love with a Hochstetter. She was still a German and related to a Gestapo officer, after all.

"Oh, come on, Newkirk. I think it's kinda sweet," Carter said, smiling small.

"Great; now I gotta worry about you as well." Newkirk groaned.

Kinch chuckled.

"Alright, guys; let's get back to business," he said, bringing everyone back to focus.

"She said she would try as long as she could. She'll contact us by radio in a few days to let us know how she's doing," Newkirk reported, continuing his report.

Kinch nodded.

"That gives us a few days to work with Klink, which shouldn't be that hard," The radioman said, pondering his thoughts.

"Well, that'll be easy for you, mate. You're a ruddy genius when it comes to handling Klink," Newkirk said beaming.

" _Oui, mon ami_ ; I would not trust anyone else to handle the Kommandant but you!" LeBeau added in.

"...I just think it's funny to listen in on you guys and hear Klink getting riled up," Carter said innocently.

Everyone nodded, agreeing to that statement.

"It is kinda amusing, isn't it," Kinch said smiling.

The four of them started softly laughing to one another. Just thinking of Klink getting wound up was enough to make them feel good. It was what got them through on hard days sometimes, whatever the reason may be. Sometimes just thinking of the good old Kommandant and his hissy fits he threw when confronting Kinch was reason enough to give them a chuckle.

"Come on, guys; let's get to bed for the night. We got a boatload of work for us to do in the morning," Kinch said, looking at his watch.

"Good idea, mate; I'm feeling a bit tired anyways," Newkirk said, stretching his arms above his head.

The four of them climbed up the ladder into the barracks, closed it, and headed off to bed for the night.

* * *

A couple days passed. And after several seminars and applications, Colonel Hogan had officially joined British Headquarters working alongside General Berkman as his commanding officer. As much as he missed his men and the operation back at Stalag 13, the American colonel was excited to be starting something new and getting back to work after spending six and a half months in a psychiatric hospital.

Hogan was standing over a table and straightening out papers in his service uniform, when Berkman came up from behind him.

"Getting the hang of things yet?" He asked friendly.

Hogan turned to look at Berkman, smiled, then back at his papers.

"It's certainly different," the colonel said.

"Don't worry; I won't make you do too much desk work. I know how much you hate it."

"That would be very much appreciated, thanks," Hogan said smiling. There was something in his eyes, though, that said otherwise. Berkman knew Hogan too well and knew when he was choosing to hide his feelings.

"Your eyes say something else, Colonel." The old general prodded.

Hogan sighed.

"I'm just...tired is all," he softly said.

"Robert...what's wrong?" Berkman asked in a hushed tone. He knew how the colonel hated public attention on him regarding his personal feelings and wanted to make his new second in command and long time friend feel comfortable.

Hogan sighed and looked around. No one was around. He took in a shaky breath, then looked at Berkman again.

"I miss my men," he softly said.

"I know you do, Robert...and chances are that they miss you, too...if not, more than you miss them. I know how heartbroken they were when they lost you."

"I just wish I could go back in time and stop...you know…"

"Robert, there was nothing any of us could do. You needed medical attention that no one in Germany could give you. It's not your fault; don't keep beating yourself up."

Hogan sighed and sadly nodded.

Berkman gave a small smile suddenly.

"I know what'll cheer you up...how about the next time the guys call into London regarding a mission, I'll let them talk to you for a while. It may not be being there with them physically, but you'll be able to talk with them and tell them how things are over here." The old general spoke.

Hogan started to smile and nodded.

"I would like that a lot, General; thank you," he said sincerely.

Berkman returned the same, warm facial expression.

"Now, how about those papers?" The general asked.

"Oh, they're all ready to go, sir. Signed and proofread," Hogan said, handing the papers to his commanding officer.

"Excellent; this is why I put you as my second in command. Always quick and efficient."

Hogan smirked.

"Just doing my job, sir, is all," The American colonel said friendly.

The two Americans chuckled and with that, they walked off to another room to mail out the papers Hogan had been working on.

* * *

Back at Stalag 13, the men were impatiently waiting to hear back from Barbara in how everything was going with Hochstetter. They were growing worried that something had happened to her. LeBeau was, of course, taking it the worst. His cooking was showing in quality that his mind was only focused on one thing. On top of that, the poor little Frenchman spent a lot of the day pacing back and forth in the barracks and had trouble falling asleep at night.

Kinch, Newkirk, and Carter were sitting at the table watching their poor friend torture himself as he paced back and forth, slowly losing his mind. Baker was down in the tunnels manning the radio and listening for any messages that might come in from either the underground or London.

"Louis, you're gonna drive yourself mad, if you keep doing that," Newkirk said, wishing his little friend would take it easy. As much as he disliked the Frenchman's crush over Hochstetter's niece, he hated seeing him so distressed and worried.

"I'm sure she's just fine, Louis," Carter said, feeling bad for his friend. He could only imagine the torture his little friend was suffering from momentarily.

"It's not even the fact that she might be in Gestapo Headquarters. It's the fact I don't know where she is or haven't heard from her yet!" LeBeau moaned, getting more and more worried.

"Just don't panic, LeBeau. We'll hear from her soon enough. Who knows; maybe she's having better luck at stalling Hochstetter than we thought she'd have," Kinch said, trying to reassure his friend.

"I'm gonna go crazy if I don't hear anything soon." The Frenchman murmured.

"It's not gonna do us, you, or Barbara any good if you go crackers, Louis," Newkirk said, taking a drag on a cigarette.

Another prisoner in their barracks, Corporal Michael Toller, sat down at the table next to the men with a cup of coffee. He, Segal, and Sergeant Walter Dray had only been there for six months. They came with Terry when they first arrived to Stalag 13 and had been struggling to move on, like the rest of the prisoners over their recent loss. They were, somehow, managing to move forward and go on in life. It was tough, but they had each other to lean on and everyone's support. Besides; everyone knew it was hardest on Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau. (1)

Toller knew the relationship LeBeau had with Barbara and felt bad for his friend.

"Still haven't heard anything, have yah, Louis," Toller said, taking a drink of coffee.

"No...and I'm gonna go crazy, if I don't hear from her soon!" LeBeau exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair.

As if on cue, the fake bunk opened, and Baker came out in a hurry.

"Message from the underground. It's Barbara." He reported.

LeBeau, on pure impulse, snapped his head and darted down the ladder to the radio. Kinch, Carter, and Newkirk were quick to follow the little Frenchman down into the tunnels. Whatever it was that the four were waiting for, it was important information they had to know.

* * *

(1) Segal, Dray, and Toller are ColHogan's characters from 'Lost In the Darkness'. She gave me strict permission to be able to use them and NO ONE ELSE are allowed to use them unless asking for her permission first! All about respect, people.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

LeBeau was the first one to make it to the radio. He picked up the headset and started speaking into it.

"Barbara...Barbara, is it you, _ma chérie_?!" LeBeau pleaded.

" _It's me, LeBeau; I'm just fine_ ," Barbara said through the radio.

LeBeau sighed with relief, when his friends reached him. Kinch took the radio set from the little Frenchman and started speaking with the underground agent.

"How are you doing, Barbara? Did everything go alright with Hochstetter?" Kinch asked, genuinely concerned.

" _I'm alright, Kinch_ ," she replied.

"How did everything go with your uncle?" Kinch asked.

" _Slowly, but fine...for now, at least._ "

"What do you mean 'for now'?"

" _I told Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau that I could only do it so much before Uncle Wolfgang grows suspicious._ "

"Right; well, what do you got so far?"

" _Well, to be honest...nothing. I haven't seen my uncle for a couple days...it's why I've been so silent the past few days. He's very busy with this whole investigation right now._ "

"Can you go to his office in Headquarters without the threat of danger?"

" _Suppose I could try. I sometimes visit him in his office._ "

"Alright; plan to meet with him Saturday mid afternoon. Radio us afterwards and let us know how everything goes."

" _Got it._ "

"Be careful, Barbara." LeBeau pleaded.

Newkirk lightly whacked the Frenchman's head and glared at him.

"Not now, Louis." Newkirk hissed.

Barbara's giggling could be heard over the radio.

" _Tell LeBeau I'll be alright. I know how to handle my uncle,_ " she said, holding back from laughing.

"I can only hope, Barbara." Kinch replied, taking a deep breath in.

" _Moonlight out._ "

"Papa Bear over and out."

Kinch ended the connection and turned to face his men. They stood there in complete silence for what felt like hours. They all stared at one another. Finally, Newkirk broke the silence with a question.

"You think she can do it, Kinch?"

"She's gotta; we need more time to think of a plan." The dark sergeant replied, crossing his arms.

"What happens if we're assigned a mission, Kinch?" Carter asked.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"What are we gonna do with the Kommandant?" LeBeau questioned.

"Now, why would we worry about that man causing us any trouble?" Newkirk asked, turning to face LeBeau.

"Think about it, _mon ami._ If Major Hochstetter came in here and threatened the Kommandant, wouldn't he instantly agree with him to avoid harm?"

Newkirk pondered that thought in his mind for a moment. It did make perfect sense.

"He's gotta point there, Kinch. What are we gonna do about good ole' 'Iron Eagle', up there?" Newkirk asked, gesturing his head upward.

"I'll talk to him later today. He usually doesn't have anything going on in the late afternoon anyways...I just hope I can persuade him well enough," Kinch said. He started wishing that a certain someone was there right now to do the talking instead of him. He knew who could persuade Klink best, and it was not him...it was not any of them.

"Kinch, we've learned everything possible from him," Carter said sadly.

"The Gov'nor taught us everything we could ever need to know on how to work with the Germans." Newkirk added, growing sad.

"He would want you to do this, _mon ami,_ " LeBeau softly said.

Kinch sighed.

"I know...it's just not the same is all," the sergeant said, looking up to the right at a distance.

"It's never gonna be the same again," Newkirk said, crossing his arms.

"You think we would've been able to forget about him by now," Carter said sadly.

"We could never forget the Colonel, André...not after everything he did for us." LeBeau replied.

"Hey, Kinch...what do you think Colonel Hogan would want us to do right now?"

The radioman sighed, as he thought about that. He missed Hogan's advice. He somehow always knew what to say to make them feel better and get their spirits back up again. It had been harder for them to do that since Hogan had left to be treated in London. On top of that, there were questions that were left unanswered. How was he? Was he getting better? Did he go home? Is he still in London? Where is he? What's he doing? Is he back to himself again? They ran through all of their minds, but none of them could answer for any of them. They were left in the dark just wondering...praying... _hoping_ that Hogan was getting better as each day went by. That hopefully, one day, they would see him again.

"I think the Colonel would want us to know that he'll be alright no matter what and to not let our feelings get in the way of our task at hands right now," Kinch said, trying to channel Hogan as much as he could.

"Do you think we'll ever see him again?" Newkirk croaked. A knot was forming in his throat. It still hurt for them to talk about Hogan.

Kinch took in an uneasy breath.

"I hope so, Newkirk...I really hope so."

* * *

Klink sat at his desk reading a magazine with girl models in it. His feet were kicked up on top of the desk and a glass of brandy on it beside him. Kinch opened the door and walked in silently. He could not help but smirk at his sight. Klink turned to look at Kinch then back at his magazine, when he realized someone was in the room. He quickly put down his legs, shoved the magazine away in a desk drawer, and turned to face Kinch, his eyes glaring coldly at him.

"Sergeant Kinchloe, why didn't you knock," Klink ordered.

"Sorry, Kommandant; Fraulein Hilda said you weren't busy, so I thought I'd skip the knocking, today." Kinch answered innocently.

"What do want, Sergeant; I'm terribly busy," Klink said, starting a pile of paperwork. He was praying to God that for once it would make his Senior POW go away and not ask any more questions.

"Well, sir; tell me if the rumors are true." Kinch began.

Klink snapped his head up from the papers.

"What rumors," the Kommandant hissed.

"Sir, you don't know?!" Kinch gasped.

"Know what, Sergeant Kinchloe? What rumors are you talking about?"

"Kommandant, everyone around here is saying Major Hochstetter thinks Colonel Hogan is still alive."

Klink gaped at Kinch. How did he know about Hochstetter's visit?

"How do you know that, Sergeant," Klink ordered.

"Well, we all saw him come by not too long ago, sir. Last week, I believe it was. You told us yourself the next day at morning roll call," Kinch said.

"I did?"

"You don't remember?"

"Of course I remember...what did I say, exactly?"

"Sir, you looked terrified. Never seen you so worked up in your life, Kommandant. You told us just the facts; Major Hochstetter had come the night before and told you he had reasons to believe that Colonel Hogan was still alive and out somewhere in Germany."

"Now that you mention it, I do remember saying something like that."

"Well, do you believe it all, sir?"

"That's none of your business. Now get out," Klink said, slowly lifting his finger to show him the door.

"Does General Burkhalter know, sir?"

Klink snapped his head and rose from his chair slowly. He made his way around the desk, then leaned against the front and looked Kinch directly in the eyes.

"What does General Burkhalter know?" Klink asked suspicious.

"About the Major's assumption. Does he know that the man still thinks there's a possibility the Colonel's alive?"

"Why do you care to know, Sergeant Kinchloe?"

"Well, think about it, Kommandant. If Burkhalter finds out, he'll come here to talk to you and demand to know what Major Hochstetter said to you, sir. If he finds out that you agree with the preposterous assumption, it could cost you your colonel status."

Klink gulped.

"My colonel status?" He shuddered.

"Possibly a transfer to the Russian Front. But it's alright, though; no one can mess with the Iron Eagle, right?" Kinch asked, smiling and with a wink.

Klink shook fiercely and ran to open the door.

"Fraulein Hilda, cancel that call to General Burkhalter," Klink ordered, then immediately closed the door and made his way back to Kinch. "Sergeant Kinchloe, what do I do?"

"Well, first, you need to remember that Colonel Hogan died six months ago. There's no way he could possibly still be alive." The dark man started.

"But I don't even have a death certificate."

"You think you don't have a death certificate; it's missing. You probably misplaced it, sir."

Klink gulped.

"I hope I didn't throw it away in the trash." The old Kommandant shivered.

"I'm sure it's somewhere here, Kommandant. No one can pull anything over you, sir."

Klink filled with pride and nodded boldly.

"You're absolutely right, Sergeant Kinchloe! After all, I do run the toughest POW camp in all of Germany," the Kommandant said proud.

"And that's what makes you so great," Kinch said nodding.

He saluted to Klink and walked out of the room. Klink continued smiling, until an awful thought came to his head. Did Hogan come back from the dead, take over his new Senior POW's body, and just pull some scheme over him he was not aware of? He gulped and started shaking.

"I feel as if I've heard that similar thing before." Klink trembled. He sat back down at his desk, looked around to see if the coast was clear, then he pulled his magazine back out and started reading again. He looked around once more, just to be sure no unexpected visitors were in his office, then he went back to reading his magazine and soon enough relaxed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

Kinch returned to the barracks pleased with himself. It was as if Hogan had come to his mind to help him briefly. He was sure he left Klink quivering in his boots, and it brought pure joy to his face. Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter were sitting at the table with cups of coffee smiling at their friend.

"Kinch, yah sounded _just_ like the Gov'nor!" Newkirk beamed.

"I couldn't tell the difference for a second, buddy!" Carter cheered.

Kinch blushed and chuckled softly.

"Thanks, guys," The radioman turned to LeBeau. "Got any coffee left for me, Louis?"

" _Oui_ ; in the coffee pot." LeBeau answered, pointing to the stove.

Kinch walked over, poured himself some coffee, then he sat down with his friends and started talking with them.

"Well, we got Klink dealt with; _now_ what?" Newkirk asked, smoking a cigarette.

"Now, we wait for Barbara and see how her part of the plan holds up." Kinch answered, taking a drink of coffee.

As the four of them were about to start a game of gin, the fake bunk opened up, and Baker came jolting out of the tunnels and over to the table. He was out of air and trying to catch his breath.

"Baker, what's wrong?" Kinch asked, growing worried.

"Radio...Kinch...General Berkman...London…" Baker gasped, clutching his side. He did not need to say anymore. Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter all jolted to the fake bunk bed and made their ways into the tunnel as quickly as possible. Baker sighed and sat down on Carter's bunk. He was soon surrounded by Olsen, Dray, Segal, and Toller. (1)

"What does London want?" Dray asked.

"Is everything alright, Baker?" Segal worried.

"I don't know. All General Berkman told me was that he wanted to speak with Newkirk, Carter, Kinch, and LeBeau right away. It sounded urgent." Baker replied.

"I wonder what it could be." Olsen pondered.

"Could be a new assignment," Toller said.

"Possibly," Segal said, as he rubbed his chin with his fingers.

"What if something's wrong back home for one of them?" Dray questioned.

"I'm sure nothing's wrong back home for any of them," Toller said.

"Well...we won't know anything until they come back up, so we'll just have to be patient and wait." Segal answered.

The five men sat on Carter's bunk or at the table and waited.

* * *

Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter all ran to the radio the fastest they ever ran to make a call. Kinch put it on speaker for all of them to hear.

"Papa Bear to Mama Bear, come in, Mama Bear, come in, Mama Bear! Over," he pleaded, catching his breath.

"Oh, God; I hope it's nothing bad," LeBeau said, crossing his fingers and closing his eyes.

"It could be another mission assignment," Carter suggested.

"It sounds too important to be a mission, Andrew," Newkirk said, trying to hold back the worry in his voice.

After a whole minute of complete silence, someone on the radio came through.

" _Mama Bear to Papa Bear, over_." General Berkman's voice rang out.

"General, what is it?" Kinch asked.

" _Oh, hello, Sergeant Kinchloe; yes, I want to speak with you, Sergeant Carter, and Corporals Newkirk and LeBeau_." Berkman answered.

"We're all here, General. What's so important that you need to talk to us?"

"What if Barbara tries to come through?" Carter asked. Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau all slowly turned and glared at the young sergeant. "What?"

Kinch shook his head and went back to listening. Berkman let out a heavy sigh.

" _Well, it's like this, Sergeant_..." Berkman began.

"Oh, God; please don't be the Gov'nor, General!" Newkirk begged.

"Colonel, no!" Carter wailed.

"Anything but _that_ , General!" LeBeau pleaded.

"General...what is it? What's wrong with Colonel Hogan?" Kinch asked, panic present in his voice.

There was a brief silence before someone spoke again.

" _How do I sound, Kinch_?" A familiar voice asked.

"Colonel!" The four of them cheered.

"Colonel, you're okay!" Carter cheered.

"Colonel, we miss you!" LeBeau cried smiling.

"How is it over there in London, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked beaming.

Hogan could be heard chuckling.

" _I miss all of you guys, too_ ," The American colonel said, sounding happy.

"How are you, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"What are yah doing at Headquarters, sir?" Newkirk asked.

" _I'm just fine, Carter_." Hogan answered friendly.

" _Your Colonel here has joined us working here at Headquarters. He got released from the hospital not too long ago, actually_ ," Berkman added in.

"That's great, Colonel," Kinch said smiling.

"We're glad yah feeling better, Gov'nor," Newkirk said cheerful.

" _How's it going back there in Stalag 13_?" Hogan asked.

The four of them were silent briefly. They did not know how to tell Hogan what was going on back in Germany. They were not sure if even _to_ tell him. Kinch made a decision and answered his old commanding officer.

"Things are going alright, sir...as alright as they can be," he said. It was not a complete lie.

"Just dandy, Colonel." Newkirk answered a bit sad.

Hogan must have been able to tell that his men sounded a little depressed.

" _I know you guys wish I were probably there with you, right now_." Hogan began.

"You got that right, Colonel," LeBeau said sadly. He put a hand on his right cheek. Newkirk looked over and decided to take advantage of the situation.

"Wasn't that the cheek Barbara kissed?" Newkirk questioned.

Finally realizing that fact, LeBeau squealed and immediately put his hand down.

Carter sighed.

"We miss you, Colonel."

" _I know you guys do, and I miss you guys, too. It's too dangerous, though, for me to come back. Hochstetter's probably up to some scheme of his to expose the operation, and it wouldn't help if I came back suddenly after six months_ ," Hogan said over the radio. He paused to let his words sink in, then he continued. " _I'm not completely gone, guys. I may not be there physically, but I'm there with you guys in mind and spirit...you guys are gonna be alright. And I'm always here to radio if you need anything_."

"We need _you_ , Colonel," Carter said meekly.

"Will we ever see you again, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

" _I hope so, one day...but it's not today, unfortunately_." Hogan answered.

Kinch nodded, sighed, then grew a small smile on his face.

"It was nice talking to you, Colonel. We'd talk longer, but we have a couple things to get back to," he said, hoping he did not sound suspicious.

" _Alright, I'll let you guys go. Be careful_ ," Hogan warned.

"We will; bye, Colonel," Kinch said smiling.

"Bye, Colonel," LeBeau said.

"We miss you, Colonel!" Carter added.

"Say 'hi' to Mavis for me if you see her, Gov'nor." Newkirk chimed in.

" _Bye, guys_." Hogan answered. It sounded like he was smiling. After a couple of seconds, the line went dead. They knew the call had ended and all sighed.

"He's gone, again," Newkirk said sad.

"Hey; you heard what the Colonel said. He's here with us in mind and spirit," Kinch said, forcing a smile.

"I wish he were here _physically_ ," LeBeau said, crossing his arms.

"We all do, Louis...we all do." Kinch sighed. He put his hands on his legs and sat there thinking for a moment. As much as they were all happy that their old commanding officer was healthy and back to work again, they all wished he was still there with them. They missed Hogan's smile, the twinkle in his eyes whenever they did a good job or had an idea on how to solve a problem, talking to him about personal issues, the pats on the back and hugs he gave to make them feel better. They could not get those with him now 600 miles away.

"Well...what do we do, Kinch?" Newkirk asked sadly.

"We continue our mission...for Colonel Hogan." The sergeant answered.

"You think we should have told the Colonel what's going on over here?" Carter asked.

"Not over radio, Andrew...it's too dangerous for us _and_ him." Newkirk replied.

"He deserves to know, though."

"He's not part of the operation anymore, mate."

"He's not our commanding officer anymore, either," LeBeau said depressed.

"Just because the Colonel's gone, doesn't mean he's not our Colonel anymore. He'll _always_ be our Colonel that we loved and respected," Kinch said friendly.

Newkirk sighed then looked at his watch.

"We should probably get going. It's soon time for evening roll call," The Englishman said tired.

The four of them slowly left the table and made their ways up the ladder, closed the bunk, and waited for Klink to order roll call.

* * *

(1) The characters of Corporal Michael Toller, Staff Sergeant Maxwell Segal, and Sergeant Walter Dray are not mine, but ColHogan's. She gave me strict permission to use them, and they may not be used by others unless asking her to use them first. I will not be happy to find out otherwise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

A few days passed by, and nothing much happened besides teams practicing for the championship volleyball game coming up.

Kinch and LeBeau were watching Newkirk, Carter, and their other four teammates as they continued practicing. Suddenly, a Gestapo staff car pulled up into camp and next to the Kommandantur. Kinch gently tapped LeBeau's shoulder, pointed to the car, and the two of them walked a bit closer to find out what was going on. The doors to the car opened, and Hochstetter stepped out followed by a young girl in a Gestapo uniform; it was Barbara.

LeBeau softly gasped, but Kinch gave him a warning glare to tell him to not make any sudden noises. The two of them returned their attention to the two of the Gestapo agents in front of them.

"I wonder what Barbara's doing here," Kinch pondered.

"And why is she wearing such a horrible outfit?" LeBeau asked smug, as he crossed his arms. He was disgusted that his beautiful lady was wearing such trash.

Carter and Newkirk saw the two Germans and made their ways over to Kinch and LeBeau.

"What's Barbara doing here?" Newkirk asked.

"We're wondering the same thing, Newkirk." Kinch replied, keeping his eyes fixed on Hochstetter.

Klink came out followed by Schultz. He greeted Hochstetter with his usual dorky smile, as he locked away his fear as best as he could. He saluted to the Gestapo major, who returned the same salute slightly irritated.

"Major Hochstetter, welcome back to Stalag 13," Klink said, with a corny smile.

"Klink, this is my niece, Barbara Wagner. She wanted to join me on my visit to see you," Hochstetter reported.

"You said this was the toughest prisoner of war camp in all of Germany, Uncle Wolfgang," Barbara said smug. Her arms were crossed, and she looked at Klink disapprovingly. She found the man a complete moron acting undercover _and_ opinion wise. She wondered how Newkirk, Kinch, LeBeau, and Carter put up with such a booby prize for a Kommandant.

"This _is_ unfortunately, dear," Hochstetter said sadly.

"I don't understand how a camp can be so tough with such a coward of a Kommandant." Barbara replied, looking Klink head to toe and back up again.

Klink forced a chuckle.

"She's lovely, Major Hochstetter," the Kommandant said, slightly worried.

"Come, Barbara...the sooner we get this discussion over with, the better." Hochstetter sneered.

"Agreed, Uncle." Barbara replied.

"Oh, Kommandant," Kinch called, as he and the others followed him towards Klink, Hochstetter, and Barbara.

"Sergeant Kinchloe, what do you want," Klink ordered.

"We're sorry for prying, sir, but we were just curious to know what's going on."

"And who's the girl?" Newkirk asked smug. He crossed his arms and looked disgusted with Barbara, as if he had never met her before.

"I would advise you to not speak so ill to my niece, Corporal Newkirk." Hochstetter hissed.

"I didn't know you had a niece, Major Hochstetter," Carter said stunned.

"Who are these eh... _delinquents_?" Barbara asked disgusted.

LeBeau, not being able to hide his love, broke first.

"Corporal Louis LeBeau. Serial number H1249…" Newkirk cut the little Frenchman off.

"Louis!" Newkirk snapped.

Barbara looked ill at all four of them and rolled her eyes.

"Uncle Wolfgang, get me inside the Kommandant's office... _one_ idiot is enough." Barbara sneered, turning her attention back to Klink.

Klink began laughing, then it turned into fear.

"Right away, Miss Barbara," Klink quivered. "Schultz!"

"Yes, _Herr Kommandant_?" Schultz asked, reporting by his commander's side.

"Show Major Hochstetter and Miss Barbara to my office."

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_. It shall be done!"

"I can make my _own_ way to your office, Klink!" Hochstetter spat.

"Of course, Major," Klink said.

The four Germans disappeared into the Kommandantur. After waiting a few seconds, Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter hurried back to the barracks and to the small room to grab the coffee pot and listen in on what would go down in Klink's office.

* * *

Barbara stood near the door by Schultz. He did not bother her like Klink did. To Barbara, Schultz seemed like nothing more than a big teddy bear who was doing a job out of fear of his own country. For that, she secretly hid the fact of thinking that and acted like she was not pleased with his presence. She would find a way to make it up to him later. She owed the nice sergeant at least that much... _especially_ when he had to put up with Klink 24 hours a day.

As for Hochstetter, he stood before Klink's desk as the old Kommandant took his spot in his chair.

"Now, Major Hochstetter; to what do I owe this pleasure surprise of you and your lovely niece visiting?" Klink asked, once again giving his goofy smile.

"Klink, you know very well why I am here," Hochstetter remarked, ornery as always.

"Of course, Major Hochstetter…" Klink paused. He had no idea why Hochstetter was here, let alone with his young niece. She looked, to Klink, no more than 24 years old. The old Kommandant gulped before speaking again. "Would you mind giving me a hint?"

Barbara, standing with her arms crossed, turned her eyes to the ceiling and faintly shook her head. How stupid was this man actually, she wondered.

"Klink! Colonel Hogan is why I'm here!" Hochstetter hollered, slapping his leather gloves hard on Klink's desk. It startled the Kommandant, making him jump a little in his chair. He swallowed another knot in his throat.

"Major...Colonel Hogan's dead...he died six months ago being transferred to Hadamar Psychiatric Center." Klink trembled.

"BAH!" Hochstetter yelled. "Klink, that man is alive, and I _know_ it!"

"Obviously, he's resilient to believing so, Uncle." Barbara spoke arrogant, while looking at her nails. Making sure Hochstetter was not noticing, Klink gave a slight smug look to the young lady.

"Major Hochstetter, I was sent Colonel Hogan's death certificate and notified the night Hogan was shot and killed by the guards who had taken him." Klink stated strong, yet he was shaking just looking at Hochstetter's cold, dead eyes.

"Then explain where his body is, Klink." Hochstetter sneered.

The German colonel gulped.

"In the morgue?" He trembled innocently.

"KLINK!" Hochstetter hollered.

"I don't know, Major; you're absolutely right," Klink said, starting to break under Hochstetter. At some points, he wondered who scared him more: Adolf Hitler or Major Hochstetter?

"I currently have my men investigating the guards who escorted Colonel Hogan to Hadamar the night he was 'shot and killed'...and I _know_ you have their names, Klink." Hochstetter growled, leaning in closer to Klink's face. The Kommandant simply shook violently.

"Yes, Major; I think I do remember their names, now that you mention it." He quivered, nodding slightly.

"Now, who are they?" Hochstetter asked.

"A Captain Gebauer with two sergeants: Hoffman and Schlacter." (1)

Hochstetter took notes down in a notepad, clicked his pen, then put the small book away in his coat pocket.

"Klink, I shall return after investigating the three guards you have told me of," Hochstetter warned.

The kommandant gulped.

"I shall be waiting sir, Major." He trembled.

Hochstetter turned to look at his niece with affection.

"Come, dear; let's get out of here," Hochstetter said.

"The sooner, the better, Uncle," Barbara said, glaring at Klink.

The two Gestapo officers walked out of Klink's office and headed back to their car. When they were gone, Klink shook his fist and moaned slightly, showing his aggravation of both Hochstetter and his disapproving niece visiting his camp.

Just as Klink was about to start on some paperwork, there was a knock on the door. It opened without waiting for a reply, and Kinch walked in and saluted Klink.

"Sergeant Kinchloe, I'm _not_ in the mood." He hissed.

"Sorry to intrude, Kommandant. I was just curious to know what Major Hochstetter wanted," Kinch said.

"That's none of your business. Dismissed!" Klink replied, waving Kinch on.

"Sir, does General Burkhalter know about the investigation going on?"

Klink looked up at Kinch suspiciously.

"I believe Major Hochstetter said he had gotten permission from him to carry out the investigation... _why_ ," he ordered.

"Shouldn't he be aware of Major Hochstetter's visit today?" Kinch questioned innocently.

Klink sat there and thought about it for a while. Kinch did make a valid point. After a few more moments, Klink leaned over, grabbed his phone, and picked it up.

"Fraulein Hilda, get me General Burkhalter in Berlin. Priority call," he ordered. There was a moment of silence before what Kinch assumed was Burkhalter answering the phone.

"Ah, General Burkhalter; good to hear your voice again, sir... _Klink_!" The old Kommandant started. "General Burkhalter, I wanted to inform you that Major Hochstetter came by for his visit, today...what do you mean 'what visit'? Didn't you order him to come see me, sir...sir I...you mean you don't know?...General Burkhalter, Major Hochstetter told me that you granted him permission to investigate Hogan's death after he made valid arguments that made you grow suspicious of the night he was taken to Hadamar." Klink took the phone then away from his ear. Burkhalter could be heard screaming throughout the entire office. Kinch slightly eased away, hearing how furious the German general was.

Klink slowly put the phone back to his ear and tried to ease Burkhalter from his growing temper.

"General Burkhalter, I can assure you I had no idea of this whatsoever...you're coming out here?...now?...yes, sir...I understand, sir...wha...oh yes, _Heil Hitler_." With that, Klink hung up the phone and began rubbing his temples. A headache was starting to form.

"Everything alright, sir?" Kinch asked.

"General Burkhalter had not been informed of an investigation going on by Major Hochstetter or anyone from Gestapo Headquarters." Klink replied meekly.

"He sounded pretty angry, sir."

"He'll be even more angry when he finds out I've had a previous meeting with Major Hochstetter I didn't inform him about."

"You didn't call him then either, Kommandant?"

"I thought Major Hochstetter would have taken care of the call, and now I find out _this_."

"Sounds rough, sir."

"Sergeant Kinchloe, what am I gonna do? General Burkhalter coming here will just make the situation ten times as worse than it already is with just Major Hochstetter snooping around."

"Well, you could always try a trip to Stalingrad." Kinch gave a light chuckle, until he saw Klink snap his head at him with a frightening look on his face.

"Sergeant, that's _not_ funny!" Klink spat.

"Sorry, sir," Kinch said innocently.

Klink sighed and placed a hand on his chin to prop up his head.

"I'm doomed, Sergeant Kinchloe... _doomed_." He whimpered.

* * *

(1) Captain Gebauer is the alias of an underground member disguised as a Luftwaffe officer that appeared in 'Lost in the Darkness' with two other agents to take Hogan to the secret airfield, where an airplane would take him London for proper medical attention. There were two other guards with him, but they were never specified by any names, so I gave them each a name for this story.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

It was well into the early hours of evening, when Burkhalter's car pulled into camp. Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter were in the small room of the barracks listening in on the conversation that was about to go down.

"How mad do you think Burkhalter is?" Newkirk asked.

"He sounded pretty furious on the phone." Kinch replied, remembering how loud he heard Burkhalter screaming.

"Boy, Klink's sure gonna get it for this."

"I don't think I've ever heard Burkhalter so angry before," Carter said.

"Would you be if you found out an investigation was going on without your knowledge?" LeBeau asked.

"Well...I didn't think of it like that, Louis."

"Sssshhhhhhhhhhhh; Burkhalter's entering into the room, " Kinch ordered softly.

* * *

The door to Klink's office slammed open, and Burkhalter stood there in the doorway. His face was as red as the swastika wrap Hochstetter wore around his arm. He turned to face Klink and glared at him. The old Kommandant was lost in paperwork. He had not heard anyone enter the room.

"KLINK!" Burkhalter hollered.

The man in calling nearly fell out of his chair. He immediately stood at attention and saluted Burkhalter better than he had ever done before.

"General Burkhalter, welcome to Stalag 13," Klink said rapidly. He was worried, seeing that the general was still furious.

"Why was I not aware of an investigation on Colonel Hogan's death going on?" Burkhalter ordered.

"General Burkhalter, I can assure you I had no _idea_ you were not aware of what was going on. Major Hochstetter had told me you gave him permission, so I thought everything happening around here was being reported to you by him."

"Just one problem, Klink...I wasn't."

Klink shook in his boots violently. How he wished Hogan was there right now to help him.

" _Herr General_ , I'll do whatever you want me to do. Just give me the order," the kommandant said, begging for mercy.

"Drop dead would be a start." Burkhalter spat.

That only made Klink shiver more.

"What else?" The colonel murmured.

Burkhalter pushed Klink's phone in front of him.

"Klink, I want you to call Major Hochstetter immediately requesting his presence. Tell him it's an order from General Burkhalter."

"Yes, General…" Klink began dialing, then looked back up at Burkhalter. "You want me to say it's regarding something with the investigation o…"

"KLINK!"

"Yes, _Herr General_ ; calling Major Hochstetter!"

Klink dialed the phone number to Gestapo Headquarters as fast as he could. He was relieved when someone answered immediately.

"Get me Major Hochstetter on the line. Priority call." Klink quivered. He had never been more scared in his life until now. _Hogan, help me_ , Klink thought to himself. Hochstetter soon answered the phone. "Major Hochstetter, this is Colonel Klink speaking...no, I did not know you were in the middle of a meeting."

"I don't care if he were in the middle of a meeting with the _Fuhrer_!" Burkhalter spat.

Klink nodded, letting Burkhalter know he had been heard.

"Uh, Major...if you would not mind, I need you to come back out here for the evening...they are orders from General Burkhalter, Major Hochstetter...yes, sir...yes...huh...oh yeah, _Heil Hitler_." Klink hung up the phone and sighed. He was exhausted and just wanted the day over with so he could go to bed and forget everything that had happened today.

"Very good, Klink. You improve more and more each day," Burkhalter said, giving an evil grin.

"Really?" Klink asked brightening up.

"No," Burkhalter replied, his face immediately frowning.

Klink slouched in his chair.

"I didn't think so, General." He mumbled to himself gloomily.

* * *

Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau had put away the coffee pot in the small room and now were sitting at the table in the main area of the barracks.

"Boy...Burkhalter's sure ticked off," Carter said, as he held his coffee cup.

"I don't think we've ever seen Burkhalter any angrier than now," LeBeau said, taking a sip of coffee.

"I can understand where he's coming from, though. I mean, how would one of us feel being left in the dark about something big like this if we were him?" Newkirk asked, lighting a cigarette.

"What do you think, Kinch; should we help Klink?" Carter asked.

"I don't think Klink's in any trouble right now. We will, if something changes." Kinch replied.

Carter nodded and took another drink of coffee.

LeBeau sighed.

"Sure wish _mon Colonel_ was here. This whole situation would be fixed by now, if he were here," LeBeau sadly said.

"Yeah...it sure is different without him," Kinch said.

"Well, look on the bright side. The Colonel's healthy again, and he's working with General Berkman," Carter said, trying to remain positive.

"So why do I feel so miserable, then?" LeBeau murmured.

"I'm with Louis on this one...in fact, I'm kinda jealous of London." Newkirk added.

"You are?" Carter asked.

"Well, yeah; they have the Gov'nor, and we don't."

Carter frowned.

"Kinch...are you sure we can't bring him home?" The young man whimpered.

"I'm sorry, Carter. It's too dangerous, and we owe our lives to the Colonel. It's our job to protect him...since we couldn't before." The dark man answered sadly.

"I know we shouldn't feel guilty for the Colonel getting ill, but I still do...and I have no idea why," LeBeau said grim.

"We should've saw how he was suffering before it became too late to do anything." Newkirk sighed.

"I remember some words of wisdom that the Colonel gave me once...it might make us feel a bit better, too." Kinch began.

"What is it, _mon ami_?" LeBeau asked.

"He said that 'for every bad thing, there's always something good as a result of it'." Kinch answered.

Newkirk shrugged his shoulders, as he took a drag on his cigarette.

"Bad thing: we lost him. Good thing: he's safe in London and is healthy again," the Englishman said.

"And look at it this way; had we not got him to London, he would probably be slowly dying somewhere in some horrible psychiatric hospital in Germany." Kinch added in.

"Colonel Hogan once told me one night when he was leaving for a dangerous mission by himself, he said 'if something ever happens to me, I'll always be with you, Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau...you just have to remember me is all'," Carter said, giving a sad smile. Remembering Hogan's words of wisdom made him feel better, but at the same time, it made him sad. He missed his talks with the American, his advice, his smile, and kind attitude towards everyone; even to Hochstetter, of all people!

Kinch smiled small.

"Remember him...he's still here with us, as long as we remember him," he softly said.

"I'll _always_ remember him," LeBeau said proud.

"Me too," Newkirk said.

"I sure won't ever forget him; no siree." Carter added.

Olsen, who was keeping look out for Hochstetter, closed the door and made his way over to the four sitting at the table.

"Hochstetter's here." He reported.

"Back for more coffee, men," Kinch said, standing up.

Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter followed their friend and made their way to the small room and went back to their show.

* * *

Hochstetter made his way up the Kommandantur's and into Klink's office. He was stunned to see Burkhalter in front of Klink's desk. He could tell by the feel of the room that Burkhalter was not in a good mood. Klink was slouched back in his chair trying to cower away from both men. He was obviously terrified from something.

"General Burkhalter...what an unexpected surprise," Hochstetter said, forcing a grin. He had no idea what the man was doing here, but he was sure he had a feeling telling him why.

"Major Hochstetter; I was expecting your visit," Burkhalter said, giving an evil smile.

"What are you doing here?" Hochstetter asked, glaring at Klink. The kommandant got the message and slid further down in his chair. _Someone, please kill me_ , Klink thought silently to himself.

"The question is, Major, what are you doing…" Burkhalter's facial expression changed to the one Klink had seen when he first got there. "Starting an investigation without my permission?!"

"General Burkhalter, I can explain myself." Hochstetter put it.

"You better! Instead of hearing this all from you, I hear from this bumbling twit sliding further down in his desk!"

Klink froze where he was. It was like Burkhalter had eyes everywhere on his head. There was no way of escaping. The old Kommandant swallowed a large knot in his throat and continued watching in horror.

"I have come to conclusion with what happened six and a half months ago, when Hogan was taken to Hadamar for treatment. There is no record of his death being recorded and no death certificate for his death." Hochstetter sneered.

"Klink has a death certificate for Hogan's death." Burkhalter hissed.

The German colonel slid a touch more in his chair. Anymore, and he would fall out...perhaps that was not a bad idea, Klink thought. Maybe he would knock his head on his desk and go unconscious while this all occurred.

Hochstetter turned to look at Klink and grinned. He had the man right where he needed him.

"You didn't tell him, Klink?" Hochstetter beamed menacingly.

Klink did not respond in any way. He sat there blankly staring at nothing. At that moment, he was not sure whether he was more safe remaining silent or telling the truth. Maybe none of those options were safe. He made his eyes glance over at where the window was. At any moment he felt the least bit afraid, he was going to jump for it.

"Tell me what, Klink?" Burkhalter asked, turning to face him.

Klink swallowed before speaking.

"General Burkhalter...I seem to have...I might have...I appear to have uh...misplaced Colonel Hogan's death certificate." He trembled.

"WHAT?!" Burkhalter snapped.

"Schultz! Come here quickly!" The kommandant cried. The fear could be heard clearly in his throat.

"Schultz can't help you now, Klink." Hochstetter hissed.

 _Hoooooogaaaaaaan...help me_ , Klink begged in his mind. He hoped from Heaven that his late Senior POW would make sure nothing went ugly.

"What do you mean, 'you misplaced it'," Burkhalter ordered.

Klink licked his suddenly very dry lips, when the door opened, and Schultz walked in and made his way to Klink's desk. The old Kommandant shot up and stood very close beside the big guard for protection.

"Schultz, whatever you do...don't...move," Klink ordered.

"Kommandant, what if I need to use the bathroom?" Schultz asked.

Klink snapped his head to Schultz.

"Oh, shut up!" He begged.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

Burkhalter had made it clear to Klink that he was staying for the remainder of the investigation. Since it had already begun, it was up to the Gestapo when the matter ended.

A couple days after Burkhalter had arrived, Kinch was pacing back and forth across the floor in the small room. LeBeau sat on the foot locker, Newkirk sat on the bed, and Carter sat in the desk chair. They all watched, as their friend was desperately thinking of a plan to get this all to blow over, but nothing was coming to him. Kinch sighed and turned his head to the ceiling, as he continued pacing, his arms behind his back.

"Nothing yet, mate?" Newkirk asked.

"Not a darn thing." Kinch answered sadly.

"God, Gov'nor...how did you come up with an idea in a mess like this?!" Newkirk moaned. He now understood how much stress Hogan had been under while his command at Stalag 13. He could feel sympathy for their leader and now wished he could have done something while he was still there to help lighten the load of his work more.

"I think we should call Colonel Hogan and tell him what's going on. Maybe he can help somehow." Carter suggested.

"What can Colonel Hogan do from London? Besides, he's no longer a part of the operation, and that means no information can be shared with him unless given strict orders by General Berkman or anyone else in London," LeBeau said, as he put a hand on his chin.

"He's right, Carter. You know the rules," Kinch said.

"Doesn't he deserve to know?" The young sergeant cried.

"We're not saying he doesn't deserve to know."

"We have rules to follow, Andrew. The Gov'nor wouldn't want us breaking them, if he were here. He'd understand, mate," Newkirk said, trying to ease his friend. He knew how Carter felt. He wanted to just pick up the radio headset himself and beg Hogan to help them as much as his friend wanted to.

"Maybe we should let General Berkman know. Maybe he can do something." LeBeau murmured.

"I don't know, LeBeau...I don't feel comfortable sharing this kind of information over the radio. There's always a chance someone could pick up on our signal," Kinch said.

"I got an idea. What if one of us dressed up and impersonated General Eisenhauer?" Carter asked.

General Eisenhauer had been the Luftwaffe general that had ordered the three guards currently under investigation to come to camp months earlier to retrieve an ailing Hogan and take him to a psychiatric unit somewhere in the middle of Germany.

"What the bloody hell would that do, Andrew?!" Newkirk remarked irritated.

"No, Carter's on to something, Newkirk," Kinch said, as he went back to pacing. An idea was starting to cook in his head.

"What are you thinking, Kinch?" LeBeau asked.

"Carter, start practicing your German accent. Newkirk, have a Luftwaffe general's uniform ready for Carter." Kinch ordered.

"What for, mate?" Newkirk asked puzzled.

"Hochstetter's investigating the guards that took the Colonel from Stalag 13 the night he was 'shot'. If Carter dresses up like Eisenhauer and comes to Stalag 13 threatening Klink, Hochstetter, and Burkhalter to disregard his men sent out that night, it'll give us a little more time to come up with something to prove that the Colonel actually 'died' that night," Kinch said.

"Sounds decent enough for me," Newkirk said.

" _Oui_ ," LeBeau agreed.

"I'm in, buddy," Carter said.

Kinch nodded. He then turned back to Newkirk again.

"Newkirk, we're also gonna need a staff car from the motor pool,"

"Got it, mate." Newkirk answered.

"I'll get on the radio to contact another underground worker. I'll have them play as a guard to join Carter."

"Kinch...when is Barbara coming back with the information?" Carter asked suddenly.

"She called late last night. Said that Hochstetter was coming tomorrow morning with her to report more information on the guards that took the Colonel to Hadamar the night he 'died'." Kinch answered.

Carter nodded.

"Got 'cha,"

The four of them walked out of the small room finished with their meeting and disbursed to do their orders given by Kinch. They knew what needed to be done.

* * *

The next day came soon enough and sure enough after morning roll call, Hochstetter's car pulled in. Both he and Barbara stepped out and made their way into the Kommandantur's. After making sure they were gone, Kinch looked over at his men and nodded. Carter went off his way to the tunnel exit to meet with an underground member that would pose as his guard.

Newkirk went down into the tunnels and got on the phone lines. He was going to impersonate a German officer from Berlin and report to Klink that a very unhappy General Eisenhauer was coming to Stalag 13 regarding the investigation going on.

* * *

Klink, Burkhalter, Hochstetter, and Barbara were all in Klink's office discussing the new information Hochstetter had found on the guards Klink had said took Hogan to Hadamar the night he died after being shot to death. The kommandant sat in his chair, Burkhalter sat underneath a picture of Hitler, Barbara leaned against the wall near Burkhalter, and Hochstetter, as always, was standing and walking around the office.

Barbara was indifferent with how she felt about Burkhalter. She had only met him once, and it had been brief. She decided she would just remain quiet, unless she was directly spoken to by the Luftwaffe general. She did not need to start a commotion in the office so soon.

"Klink, General Burkhalter, I think you will find it rather interesting on the information I have regarding the three men who took Hogan the night he was shot dead trying to escape." Hochstetter began.

"Marvelous, Major," Klink spoke, not interested. He quickly fixed his error the moment he saw the look on Hochstetter's face change. "I mean continue, Major!"

"You said that the men who took him were under the names of Captain Gebauer and Sergeants Hoffman and Schlacter," Hochstetter said.

"Correct, Major," Klink replied.

"Do you two know that these men have not been heard from in six months?"

"Not heard from; you mean they're missing, Major?"

"That's exactly what I mean, Klink. Suspicious?"

The colonel quivered.

"Absolutely, Major Hochstetter; I couldn't agree with you more."

"Major; I am not convinced. Now, how do you know these men are missing?" Burkhalter said, rising to his feet.

As Hochstetter was about to answer, the telephone rang. Klink looked at it briefly before he returned his attention to the two men before him. Burkhalter and Hochstetter turned to face him.

"Aren't you going to answer your phone, Klink?" The general asked.

"Why would I do that; you and Major Hochstetter are my guests, that would be rude." He replied, giving a childish smile.

Burkhalter's face grew red, making Klink shudder.

"Answering the phone, General Burkhalter." He picked up his office phone. "Colonel Klink speaking."

"Colonel Klink, this is Captain Von Schneider," Newkirk began, using his best German accent. "I am calling from Berlin."

"Captain, how can I assist you?"

"Klink, I've just been informed of the Gestapo investigating the three men General Eisenhauer sent to your camp to transfer a Colonel Robert Hogan to Hadamar."

"Yes, sir; they are under suspicion of helping Colonel Hogan escape from Germany while faking a mental illness."

"General Eisenhauer is not happy, Klink. He's on his way over to Stalag 13 right now."

"He is?"

"Yes; and don't upset him any more there, or I'll hear of it! Understood?"

"Yes, Captain Von Schneider."

" _Heil Hitler_!"

" _Heil Hitler_."

Klink put the phone back on the hook and shook, as he turned back to face General Burkhalter and Major Hochstetter.

"What did this 'Captain Von Schneider' want, Klink?" Burkhalter asked.

"General Eisenhauer knows about his men being investigated...he's coming here to discuss further matters regarding it," Klink said, starting to tremble.

Burkhalter sighed and shook his head.

"Gentlemen, I believe you are in for it, now." He reported.

"What about you, General?" Hochstetter sneered.

" _I_ am not the one who ordered the investigation, Major. Therefore, _I_ have no part in this whatsoever."

Barbara quickly glanced at Klink, shook her head, and turned back to face Burkhalter and Hochstetter.

"Who is General Eisenhauer, Uncle?" Barbara asked interested.

"General Eisenhauer is one of Hitler's right hand men. If he's upset, then we all are upset, my dear." Burkhalter replied.

Barbara nodded.

"I see, General Burkhalter." She simply answered.

The office door slammed open, the four of them unaware, and Carter as General Eisenhauer entered in with a young man, no more than 20, alongside with him. He had dark hair, dark blue eyes, and his uniform indicated he was a captain. Carter was wearing a gray fake mustache and had gray hair, too.

"KLINK!" Carter hollered.

Klink shot to his feet and saluted Carter as best as he could while shaking from ultimate terror.

"General Eisenhauer, how wonderful to see you, sir." Klink cried, hoping it would make the general not as angry.

"I get a phone call regarding my men are being investigated for committing a crime, and you think this is a wonderful visit!?" Klink was about to answer, but Carter cut him off. "STAND UP STRAIGHT!" The kommandant shot up straight and tall.

"Yes, General Eisenhauer!" Klink quivered.

"Now," Carter began. "Where is the man who ordered this investigation, Klink?"

The kommandant was going to answer, when Burkhalter cut him off.

"I believe the man you are looking for, General, is right here," the big general said, gesturing to Hochstetter. The Gestapo major had seemed to lose his ornery attitude and was standing straight for Carter. He hoped it was enough to make the general less furious with him and the Gestapo.

Carter turned around and noticed Barbara, as if he had not seen her when first entering the room. He smiled at her wickedly.

"And who do we have here?" He asked pleased.

Barbara pretended to act afraid. She had been informed by Kinch of what the plans were.

"Barbara Wagner, General. Major Hochstetter's niece." She quivered.

"Well, Ms. Wagner; I would advise you to go outside, while I uh...discuss business with your uncle. It could get very ugly in here," Carter said.

"Yes, sir; Uncle Wolfgang, I'm outside, if you need me." Barbara quickly grabbed the doorknob and walked out of the office, closing the door. She started heading for the car where Kinch would meet her. Carter turned around and made his way now to Hochstetter.

"Ah...Major Hochstetter; I have heard many things about you," Carter said. He gave a wicked grin that Burkhalter was so famous for giving.

"General Eisenhauer, a pleasure to be in your presence." Hochstetter replied. He was smiling childishly. He wanted absolutely anything other than to upset General Eisenhauer.

"I can't say I agree, Major...for you have been questioning my men who I sent out here to retrieve a mentally ailing American colonel and suspect them helping him escape out of Germany and committing treason!"

" _Herr General_ , allow me to explain my reasonings."

"I don't care if your reasonings were valid!" Carter barked and slammed his swagger stick down hard on Klink's desk. The German colonel jumped back a few feet and looked at Carter with mercy in his eyes.

"General Eisenhauer, if I could just assure you I had nothing to do with the start of this investigation." Klink pleaded, putting his hands together.

Carter snapped his head to the quivering German colonel and glared at him harshly.

"Klink...I would advise you to stay out of this, or you can give your alibi AT THE RUSSIAN FRONT!" Carter hollered.

"Of course, General Eisenhauer! I'll say nothing!" Klink replied. He may have been smiling, but the fear could be heard in his tone.

Carter turned back to Hochstetter.

"Major," he said, walking back to Hochstetter's side. "I am allowing you 48 hours to have you drop the charges against my men, or I will make sure that the _Fuhrer_ hears about these insults."

"General, are you not aware that these men have not been heard from in six months? The last time they were heard, they called Kommandant Klink that Colonel Hogan had been shot and killed from trying to escape out of custody!" Hochstetter remarked, trying to win his case. A certain edge was in his voice, but he dialed it back to not upset the high ranking general.

"MY MEN HAVE NO PURPOSE WITH SPEAKING TO THE GESTAPO!"

"Absolutely, _Herr General_ ; I couldn't agree with you more!" Hochstetter was beginning to tremble. Neither Klink, Burkhalter, nor Carter had seen Hochstetter look afraid before.

Carter turned sharp on his boot and made his way back to Klink.

"Klink, you will see to it that these charges have been dropped in 48 hours. If not, call me immediately afterwards." He ordered, slapping the swagger stick in his hand.

"Of course; absolutely, _Herr General_ ," Klink said, saluting the general and standing up straight.

"And you, Major; I expect these rules to be followed, or you may find yourself in a very freezing situation," Carter said, hinting at what he meant by his comment.

"I will certainly drop the charges as soon as I find and question each of these men," Hochstetter said. Carter snapped his head towards Hochstetter with a sinister look. "I mean I'll drop them right away, General!"

Carter just continued staring at the Gestapo officer coldly.

* * *

Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau could not help but laugh, as they listened in on what was happening in Klink's office.

"Andrew's certainly making Hochstetter crumble." Newkirk laughed.

"I've never heard Hochstetter so terrified before," Kinch said smiling.

"Oh, _mon Colonel_ would've loved this!" LeBeau said, thinking of Hogan. The American would have been laughing his head off and clutching his middle from laughing so hard.

"Louis; get Dray. Our diversion starts now," Kinch ordered.

" _Oui_ , Kinch." LeBeau answered.

"Let's do this, mates," Newkirk said.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

Kinch, LeBeau, Newkirk, and Dray exited out of the barracks. Kinch stood against the wall of the barracks, and Newkirk walked off a few feet and began to act like he was shooting some hoops. Dray and LeBeau looked back at Kinch and waited. The dark sergeant looked at Barbara, who was standing next to Hochstetter's car. She nodded, and Kinch nodded back. He turned his attention back to Dray and LeBeau. He winked at them; the signal had been given. Dray and LeBeau nodded back and went to work. The two started walking closer to the Kommandantur's and began arguing.

"How can you say such a thing?!" LeBeau cried.

"I don't care what you think, Louis! It doesn't change my opinion!" Dray snapped back, crossing his arms.

"The Kommandant's the toughest guy out of all the ones in Germany! He's never had one escape in this camp!"

"I still think the man's an idiot!"

"You think Hitler's stupid, while you're at it?!"

"Yes!"

Newkirk ran over and stepped in between the arguing men.

"Whoa, mates; what's going on over here?" He asked, trying to break up the fight.

"This guy thinks the Kommandant's stupid!" LeBeau accused.

"Well, he's more stupid than Burkhalter!" Dray snarled.

"Kommandant Klink's ten times smarter than General Burkhalter!"

"Now, stop it, all of yah! Neither one of them are stupid," Newkirk began. He paused a brief moment to let it sink in before he continued. "It's obviously Major Hochstetter!"

The three of them all started screaming and yelling at one another on who was the stupidest German out of the three.

Klink, Burkhalter, Hochstetter, and Carter, hearing all the screaming, hurried out of the Kommandantur's and down the steps over to where the arguing and ruckus was occurring.

"KLINK, control your men!" Carter snapped.

"What's going on out here?!" Klink ordered, making his way over to the three men.

Checking to make sure their attention was away from Barbara, Kinch hurried over to the young lady and quickly shook hands with her.

"How's it going, Barbara?" He asked, keeping watch of the others once and awhile.

"Fine, Kinch; and yourself?" She replied.

"I'll be alright. Now about that news."

Barbara sighed.

"My uncle must be pretty set on this case, because he's not dropping it for a second."

"Did you try persuading him to take a break for a few days?"

"I've tried every excuse in the book that wouldn't cause suspicion of me or the underground. Uncle Wolfgang's not budging. Not for a vacation, more time with family...nothing."

Kinch sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, that kinda puts us in a rut." The radio man answered tiredly.

"I'm sorry, Kinch," Barbara said sincere.

The sergeant gave a small smile.

"It's alright, Barbara. You tried, and that's all I could ask of you." He replied in a friendly way.

Barbara gave a gentle smile back.

"You better get going. Not only would you be getting into trouble yourself with the guards if caught talking to me, but your men might get some time in the cooler, if you don't go save them."

Kinch smirked.

"Alright; talk to you soon, Barbara."

The two nodded, and Kinch hurried his way over to the three of his men.

"Alright," Klink said, now that he had the men's attention. "Now, I wanna know what this fight's about, and I wanna know immediately."

Dray took in a breath and started speaking on everyone's behalf. "Well, Kommandant; it all happened like this. You see, Corporal LeBeau and I can't come to an agreement on something." He began.

"An agreement on what, Sergeant Dray?" Burkhalter questioned.

"Well, you see, we're trying to agree on who's the stupidest German we know, and I picked the Kommandant, but _this_ guy here thinks otherwise." Dray sneered at the little Frenchman.

"It's Burkhalter." LeBeau retorted smug.

"Klink."

"Burkhalter."

"Klink!"

"Burkhalter!"

"Knock it off, mates, knock it off!" Newkirk urged, shoving the two away from one another. The Englishman looked up at the Kommandant and continued for the two of them. "Now, Kommandant; you're a smart man. Now, it's completely obvious that Major Hochstetter is the stupid one here, right, sir?"

"Corporal Newkirk, that's enough," Klink ordered, shaking his fist in the air.

"What's going on here, Kommandant?" Kinch asked.

"Your men are arguing over who the stupidest German officer is...in front of our guests!" Klink hissed.

Kinch turned to his men and acted appalled.

"Come on, guys; you know we already agreed that Klink was," the Senior POW said ashamed.

Klink threw his hands in the air, as if he were surrendering.

"I got an idea; how about we ask General Burkhalter? He's the highest ranking officer out of all of us, here." Newkirk suggested.

Kinch turned to face the Luftwaffe general, who by this point, was just downright pissed off.

"General, it's your decision. Who's the stupidest out of the three?" He asked.

"I do not speak ill of other German officers, Sergeant Kinchloe," Burkhalter spat. There was silence, before Burkhalter spoke again. "...it's Klink."

Kinch turned to the men and gestured towards Burkhalter.

"There; decision has been made. Now, no more arguing, or I'll have all of you court martialed after the liberation!" The dark man warned.

The three men before Kinch nodded sadly.

"Understood," Dray replied.

"Oui, Kinch," LeBeau said.

"It won't happen again, sir." Newkirk added.

Kinch turned back to face Klink.

"I'm sorry about them, Kommandant. I'll make sure it never happens again," he said, acting sincere.

Klink moaned, shook his fist, and walked off back to his office. Both Burkhalter and Hochstetter joined the worked up Kommandant and returned to discussing business between the three of them.

* * *

Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau were in the radio room of the tunnels laughing and talking about their successful assignment. The three of them heard footsteps, and Carter walked in dressed again in his Allied uniform. He was smiling as much as the other three were.

"Brilliant idea, Kinch," Newkirk said, with a wink.

"The Kommandant didn't suspect a thing for one moment!" LeBeau added.

Kinch smirked.

"Thanks, guys." He turned to Carter. "You did a pretty nice job at working up Hochstetter, Andrew."

"Oh, it was nothing, guys," the young man said blushing.

"Kinch, what did my lady tell you?" LeBeau asked, starting to dream of Barbara again.

"And make it quick, mate...Louis here may not hear yah, if you wait any longer," Newkirk said, glaring at his little friend.

Kinch sighed, and a frown grew on his face.

"I don't like that look on your face," the Englishman said, growing worried.

"You're not gonna like my answer, either," Kinch answered. "Barbara said she's tried everything she can without causing any suspicion of us or herself. Hochstetter isn't budging to anything she tries."

The three men sighed with frustration.

"Well, that's just great." Newkirk moaned.

" _Now_ , what?" LeBeau groaned, putting his chin in his hand.

"We don't have an idea on how we're gonna prove the Colonel's dead, yet," Carter said.

"I know...I know…" Kinch said, starting to pace. He tried thinking of an idea, but nothing was coming to him. And the ones that did come to him made either no sense or were just logically impossible to successfully carry out.

"I'm starting to agree with André's idea and call the Colonel in London." LeBeau murmured.

"And have Hochstetter find out, and the Gov'nor's killed; that's a great idea, Louis!" Newkirk snarled.

"We've gotta do something, guys! Who knows how much time we have left to think of an idea." Carter pointed out.

"What should we do, Andrew? Call General Berkman on the radio, fly out to London, and tell him what's going on over here?" Newkirk asked sardonically.

Kinch stopped pacing and snapped his fingers. He turned to his English friend.

"Newkirk...you're a genius!" He beamed.

"What did I say?" The Englishman asked, growing confused.

"Guys," Kinch began. He gave a mischievous grin. "We're going to London."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

" _London_!" Everyone exclaimed.

"Blimey; Kinch's gone crackers, mates!" Newkirk cried.

"Don't worry, Kinch! Whatever you do, do not listen to the voices you hear! We love you, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said, trying to reach what was left of Kinch's sanity.

"Oh, calm down; I haven't gone crazy... _yet_ ," the dark sergeant said, going back to his train of thought.

"What are you thinking, mate?" Newkirk asked.

"What can going to London do to help us?" Carter asked.

"It's too risky to send information like we have through radio transmissions to London. The only way to get General Berkman's help is travel to British Headquarters and tell him in person what our situation is," Kinch said.

"It makes sense, Kinch, but what about the Kommandant?" Newkirk asked.

"What if a surprise roll call is called while we're away?" LeBeau urged.

"Not with Burkhalter here. Klink's too busy trying to survive the wrath of his commanding officer." Kinch replied, pacing still.

There was complete silence, until Carter broke it.

"So...London, huh…" Carter said, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

"It's our only solution it looks like, for the moment." Newkirk replied.

"I'll put the call in tomorrow morning. It's late, and we should probably get headed on up to bed." Kinch reported, looking at his watch.

"You're probably right, Kinch." LeBeau replied.

The four of them abandoned the radio table and headed up the ladder into the barracks, closed the tunnel, and got ready for bed.

* * *

Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter sat at the table with cups of coffee the next morning, as Kinch was down in the tunnels contacting London about flying out there.

"You think General Berkman will allow the four of us to fly out to London, buddy?" Carter asked, as he looked at Newkirk.

"I don't know, mate. First time we've ever been forced to do such a thing. Who knows how General Berkman will react to it," the Englishman said, taking out a cigarette.

"You think we'll be able to visit with the Colonel?" LeBeau asked hopeful.

"It's unlikely, Louis. We've got too much to discuss with General Berkman, and the Gov'nor's probably too busy with his own work to visit with anyone." Newkirk sighed.

"It would be nice, if we got a chance to see him, though," Carter said sadly.

" _Oui_ ; I want to tell him about you guys going to the championship volleyball game," LeBeau said.

Newkirk smirked.

"Promoting us now are we, Louis?"

"What; being proud of _mes amis_ is a crime, now?" LeBeau asked.

Newkirk shook his head and took a drag on his cigarette.

* * *

" _The four of you...to London_?!" Berkman gasped on the radio.

"I know it sounds a bit bizarre, General." Kinch started.

" _The first time I've ever heard such a request, that's for sure_."

"We wouldn't ask you for such an offer, if it wasn't necessary, sir."

" _I don't doubt for a minute that whatever it is you have to tell me isn't urgent to have you ask me to fly you, Sergeant Carter, and Corporals Newkirk and LeBeau out here to discuss it with us_."

"Our operation is at stake, General. We need your help in any shape or form, sir."

There was a long period of silence before the general was heard sighing.

" _Are you sure, Sergeant Kinchloe_?"

"As sure as I am that my name is James Kinchloe." The sergeant himself answered.

" _...alright...I'll have a plane sent out to the regular landing point tomorrow night_."

"Around what time, General?"

" _2200 hours_."

"Thank you, General. Oh, and one more thing."

" _What's that, Sergeant_?"

"Don't tell or mention anything of this to Colonel Hogan. I don't want him worrying or risk him having a relapse."

" _Dr. Andrews said that Colonel Hogan was out of the danger zone of suffering a relapse, but I won't tell him anything, if you don't want me to. If he should ask, what should I say_?"

"Just tell him that we miss him and were just checking in on how he was doing."

" _I will do just that, Sergeant_."

"Thank you, General."

" _London over and out_."

The radio went dead, and Kinch set down his headset and sighed. He hated keeping this from his old commanding officer. He and the others wanted to tell Hogan what was going on with all their might. They wanted his help, his advice, and him to be their commanding officer again...they wanted their best friend back again. It was too risky, though; it was against the rules and above all, they did not want him worrying about the four of them. He had too many responsibilities now in London he needed to focus his attention on.

Kinch sat there in silence for a brief moment, then he stood up, climbed up the ladder, and closed the fake bunk bed. He grabbed himself a cup of coffee and sat down beside Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau.

"What did London say, Kinch?" Carter asked.

"We leave tomorrow night at 2200 hours."

"What about Colonel Hogan?" Newkirk asked.

"General Berkman says he'll keep our visit on the down low," Kinch said.

"Oh, come on, Kinch. We can't even say 'hi' for just a minute to Colonel Hogan?" Carter asked.

"We're not going on a social call, Carter. This is important business that needs urgent tending to."

"I would like to see him, _mon ami_." LeBeau grumbled.

"We _all_ wanna see him, but we have Hochstetter at our throats right now. We don't have time to talk to the Colonel, and he's got his own work to worry about," Kinch said.

Carter and LeBeau sighed and hung their heads.

"Alright, Kinch," Carter said sadly.

"No social visit." LeBeau added.

Newkirk sighed and took a drag on his cigarette.

"Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind seeing the Gov'nor briefly meself. I wouldn't care if it were just for a second," The Englishman sadly said.

Kinch sighed then looked at the three of them.

"...you guys aren't making this easy on me," he said.

"Isn't that kinda the way persuading someone works?" Newkirk asked.

"How about this; after this whole thing is worked out and blown over, I'll ask General Berkman if the four of us can't fly out to London some night when the Colonel's not busy, and we'll all socialize and catch up with one another." Kinch suggested, trying to appeal to everyone's interest.

"You promise, Kinch?" Carter asked.

"Promise, Carter," the dark sergeant said smiling small.

Newkirk sighed, looked at both Carter and LeBeau, then back at Kinch and nodded.

"Alright, mate...sounds fine to us," Newkirk said, giving in. It was better than nothing.

Kinch nodded.

"Good...now about tomorrow night; we have a lot to do before we leave for London," he said. The radio man began going over plans and how everything would work for their upcoming trip to London.

* * *

The next night came faster than anyone anticipated it to come. Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau left camp through the fake tree stump at approximately 9:30 PM. They arrived to the landing spot and waited for their flight to arrive. A little passed 10:04 PM, a British aircraft landed in the field and picked up the four men. They were soon off the ground and headed out to London.

It was around 11:00 at night, when the plane landed in London. The four prisoners were escorted to a car that took them to British Headquarters and were greeted by a smiling General Berkman. Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau all took turns shaking hands with the old general.

"General Berkman, pleasure to see you, sir." Kinch greeted for all of them.

"Sergeant Kinchloe, good to see you, as well. And how are things back at Stalag 13?" Berkman asked smiling.

"Oh, alright; driving Klink crazy as usual," Kinch said smiling.

Berkman chuckled.

"I'd like to meet this 'Kommandant Klink' someday."

"Nothing more than a babbling moron, General. You ain't missing much." Newkirk reassured with a wink.

"Perhaps not, Corporal."

"How's the Colonel?" LeBeau asked worried.

Berkman gave a smile.

"Colonel Hogan is doing just fine, Corporal LeBeau. He's healthy and smiling as ever. Busy with some paperwork I gave him, but doing just fine."

LeBeau gave a sad smile.

"Good...I'm glad to hear it," The little Frenchman said sadly.

Newkirk patted his little friend's shoulder gently for sympathy.

"Where is he?" Carter asked curious.

"He went home for the evening. Has a nice little apartment we rented for him while he's here." Berkman answered.

Carter nodded.

"Got 'cha, sir," Carter answered meekly.

Berkman gave the four of them a kind smile. He could see how much they missed Hogan and how much they wanted to see him again, but he knew they were here on business and did not want their old commanding officer to be worrying about them.

"He's alright, I promise you. We'll make sure nothing happens to him...and he'd want you to feel better and stop fretting over him," Berkman said kindly.

The four nodded. They understood, but they were not feeling it was the problem.

Berkman decided to change the topic of discussion in order to get the men's attention off of their loss.

"So...what's this urgent news you had me fly the four of you out here to tell me?" Berkman asked, as he gestured to a sofa in the room.

The four men walked over to it, but they did not sit down. They stood around the coffee table, and Berkman sat down on the sofa. His attention was completely focused on the four before him.

"It's Major Hochstetter, General." Kinch started.

"Is that man bothering you men again?" Berkman asked annoyed. The short-tempered Gestapo major irritated the hell out of him and wanted nothing more than to put an end to the little man. He had been a special nuisance recently.

"I wish it was the opposite, General," Kinch said sincerely.

Berkman sighed.

"What's that Kraut want, _now_?" The old man moaned.

Newkirk licked his dry lips.

"It's kinda a long story." The Englishman answered.

"I've got a long while." Berkman remarked.

Kinch sighed.

"It started when we had to fake Colonel Hogan dying. It was the only way to protect him and make sure he got to London safely for medical treatment."

Berkman nodded.

"Continue," He urged.

"It was all settled away for quite a while. We were finally getting on with our lives, when Hochstetter decided that there wasn't enough evidence that the Colonel died. He grew suspicious since there was no death certificate sent to him for Gestapo records and the fact that no body was ever reported to him."

"Hochstetter thinks that Colonel Hogan's wandering around Germany somewhere still and that he's still sick." Newkirk replied.

The general was silent for several moments, as he processed and took in the information he had just been told. Berkman stood up suddenly and was headed towards the door to leave.

"I'll be back in a moment, men. I have to go run an errand," The old general said, his hand on the door handle.

"Take your time, General," Kinch said.

"We got all night, sir." Newkirk added.

The general smiled, nodded, then he left the room. Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau stood there for several seconds not saying a word to one another, until Carter broke the silence.

"You think he'll help us, Kinch?"

"I don't know _what_ to think, yet. General Berkman didn't exactly have an expression on his face, when we told him," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"Something tells me we aren't getting anything other than orders to stop Hochstetter in his tracks," Newkirk said, feeling pessimistic.

"Well, we won't get anything done with _that_ negative attitude, Pierre," LeBeau said, slightly annoyed.

"I'm sorry; I don't see you thinking of an idea, do you?!" Newkirk snarled.

"Stop it; all of you! Colonel Hogan wouldn't wanna see us do this!" Carter spoke up.

"Carter's right, guys; how would he feel, if he saw us bickering and fighting with one another, especially with such an important mission as this one?" Kinch asked.

Newkirk and LeBeau sighed and looked at one another.

"I'm sorry, Louis," Newkirk sadly said.

"I'm sorry, Pierre," LeBeau replied softly.

General Berkman entered back into the room without the four paying any attention to him, and he had someone with him. He was wearing a USA Army Air Corps. service uniform, had black hair, and gentle brown eyes. Berkman had gone back and brought Hogan to say 'hi' to his men.

"What are we gonna do, guys?" Carter asked.

"Why don't we just have Hochstetter 'mysteriously' disappear?" Newkirk suggested.

"I like that idea," LeBeau said beaming.

"Newkirk," Kinch warned.

"Just a suggestion, mate." Newkirk replied.

"You four have a minute for me, still?" Hogan asked smiling.

The four all stared at one another in shock and slight horror.

"Andrew...did you say something, mate?" Newkirk asked.

"No...I was hoping you did, buddy." Carter replied meekly.

"Why don't you four turn around then and find out who it was?" Hogan suggested.

Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau turned their heads slowly to where the door was and gasped. Their old commanding officer was standing before them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

"Colonel!" Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk, and Kinch cheered. They ran to Hogan as fast as they could and greeted him with smiles, hugs, pats on the shoulders, and so on.

"We missed you, Colonel!" LeBeau said, hugging Hogan.

"I missed you guys, too," Hogan said smiling. He patted LeBeau's shoulder gently.

"Boy, do we got stuff to tell you!" Carter beamed with excitement.

Berkman smiled.

"I'll leave you five be for now," The old general said smiling. He walked out of the room and silently closed the door.

"Gov'nor, how are you feeling?" Newkirk asked.

"You feeling better, Colonel?" Carter asked concerned.

"Much better; thanks, Carter." Hogan replied.

"We're sure glad to see you, sir," Newkirk said smiling.

"So, how's life back at Stalag 13?" The American colonel asked, as he sat down on the sofa.

The four grew silent briefly and looked at one another. They wanted to tell Hogan what was happening right now. They wanted his advice, his help, his wisdom on what to do, but they did not want to risk stressing Hogan to relapse back into a mental breakdown. On top of that, it was against rules and regulations of the underground and the operation. They were forced to act like as if everything was alright.

"Everything's just fine, Colonel," Kinch said, after swallowing a knot in his throat. He felt horrible lying to his old commanding officer and best friend.

Hogan raised an eyebrow. He was not sure if he bought the entire act.

"What's going on; you four look like you're on the edge." He prodded.

"Nothing, sir; Klink's his usual self, Schultzie has a new obsession with Louis's chocolate cake, and Hochstetter is a pain in the neck as usual." Newkirk replied, trying to hold back the panic in his voice. He was worried that Hogan was growing suspicions...and he was never wrong with his suspicions.

Hogan glared at them coldly. He could see right through them that they were lying about something.

"I'm not gonna ask again, and it'll be a whole lot less nice, too. What's. Going. On?" He ordered strict.

Newkirk shook his head with his mouth open. He could not find words to tell him.

"...we can't tell you, sir," he sadly said.

"You can't tell me." Hogan remarked.

"We want to, Colonel...we want to really badly." Carter meekly spoke.

"It's against the rules though, Colonel," LeBeau said softly. The little Frenchman was hanging his head.

"You taught us to obey rules, Colonel." Kinch added in.

The American officer simply smiled and took out a walkie talkie attached to his belt.

"Colonel Hogan to General Berkman, over." Hogan spoke.

" _General Berkman speaking_." Berkman's voice rang in.

"My men want to tell me what's going on regarding the operation I used to command. Do I have your permission for them to do so?"

" _Go right ahead_."

"Thanks, General; Colonel Hogan over and out."

He put away the walkie talkie and looked back at his men.

Newkirk sighed.

"Sir...it's a really long story." The Englishman warned.

"I've got all night long. I'm off tomorrow, anyways." Hogan answered, crossing his legs.

"We don't wanna stress you, Colonel." Carter pleaded.

Hogan smiled friendly.

"I'll be fine, Carter." He promised.

"Okay...here it goes," Newkirk started. He took in a deep breath of air, swallowed a knot in his throat, and continued. "You see, Gov'nor...it all started the night we sent you to London, while you were so sick...I don't know if you remember much of what happened those last few days."

"A few fragments here and there, but continue," the colonel said.

"After you were safely in the airplane and off to London, we had to fake your death, sir. It was the only way to make sure you were safe and those bloody Krauts wouldn't come after you and protect the operation."

Hogan nodded, taking in the information.

"Go on." He granted.

"Well, sir...we did all the normal grieving over losing you, Gov'nor. It wasn't until recently we started getting back on track and moving on with our lives. We even started a volleyball tournament to celebrate."

"Pierre and André are the finalist against another team from Barracks 7," LeBeau said beaming.

Hogan smirked.

"I wish them my luck in the final game." The American officer turned to Newkirk and nodded for him to continue.

The Englishman sighed. The hard part had now come.

"We got a call from the underground late last week. Apparently, Hochstetter was sending patrols out to watch the area...he believes you're still alive and walking around Germany still a neurotic mess, and it was all an act so you could escape out of Germany."

Hogan simply sat there and looked at Newkirk. No expression could be read on his face. Growing concerned, Carter started talking to Hogan.

"Colonel...are you alright?" He asked worried.

Hogan sat there still a little longer, then he turned his head to the left, sighed, closed his eyes, then turned back to what once was his commanding team.

"Sounds like you guys are in quite a rut right now," Hogan said, putting his right hand in his lap.

"Sums it up pretty well, Gov'nor," Newkirk softly said.

"What do we do, Colonel?" Carter asked.

Hogan thought for a while before answering.

"Okay, here's what you're gonna do. First off, I think it would be best if the four of you went back to Stalag 13."

"What do you mean 'the four of us'?" LeBeau asked.

"Aren't you coming with us, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"It's too dangerous for me to come back to Germany...especially with this going on. No, I have to stay here, Carter," Hogan said, rising to his feet.

"But...we miss you, Colonel." LeBeau quivered.

"Please come home, Colonel." Carter begged.

The American officer looked at them with sympathy.

"I know you guys miss me...I miss you guys, too. I can't, though, with Hochstetter searching for me and everyone thinking I'm dead," Hogan said kindly.

"Actually, only Klink, Schultz, Burkhalter, and Hochstetter think you're dead. The rest of the prisoners think you're being cared for in some German psychiatric ward slowly dying from torture." Newkirk reported.

"Both sound like very pleasant situations to be in." Hogan remarked, sarcasm all over his voice.

"What else, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked sadly. He, too, was sad that Hogan was not coming back with them.

"When you get back, contact Otto Heidleman from the underground. He'll help you guys out with convincing Hochstetter I'm dead." The colonel answered.

"Are you sure you can't come back with us, Colonel?" Carter asked sadly.

Hogan sighed.

"I'm afraid not this time, Carter." He answered.

"We'll see you...after the war's over, Colonel...right?" LeBeau asked, hoping so.

Hogan gave a sad smile.

"I hope so, LeBeau," Hogan said softly.

LeBeau, Newkirk, Carter, and Kinch nodded.

"It was good seeing you, Colonel," Kinch said.

"Be careful, Gov'nor." Newkirk pleaded.

"We couldn't imagine something bad happening to you, again." Carter added.

"I'll be fine; I promise." Hogan replied sincerely.

"Good bye, Colonel," Kinch sadly said.

"Later, Gov'nor," Newkirk said, hanging his head.

" _Au revoir, Colonel_ ," LeBeau said softly.

"Bye, Colonel," Carter said.

"Bye, guys," Hogan said, waving back and giving a small smile.

The four of them waved 'goodbye' and left to head back for the airplane that would take them home to Stalag 13.

* * *

The four prisoners returned back to camp around 3AM. They all gathered around the table with cups of coffee and talked with one another. They were missing Hogan again. They had been glad to have time to talk with their past commanding officer, but now that they were back in Germany again, they missed him.

"Sure wish Colonel Hogan could've gone home with us." Carter whimpered. He had not touched his coffee.

Newkirk finished taking a drag on a cigarette.

"Yeah, but he sure did make a good point of why he had to stay behind." He spoke glum.

"I don't think I can ever get used to him not being here with us anymore," LeBeau sadly said.

"Me too, Louis." Carter added.

"I'll call Otto in the morning. Sure hope he'll be able to help us out somehow," Kinch said. He had worked with the man before and knew Hogan had trusted several things in him. The radio man just hoped that he could be the same help he had been all those times he had helped Hogan get out of a difficult situation.

"If the Gov'nor suggested him, he'll help us in any way he can." Newkirk replied.

"And besides, he's helped us more than once before," Carter said.

Kinch nodded, looked down at his watch, and sighed.

"We should probably get to bed. Roll call's in three hours." He reported.

"Good idea, mate." Newkirk agreed.

The four of them put their dirty dishes in the sink for LeBeau to wash in the morning, and they went to bed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

After morning roll call, Kinch had gone down into the tunnels to get on the radio to talk with Otto. Carter and LeBeau were up in the barracks playing a game of gin, and Newkirk was down in another part of the tunnels working on fixing a dead light bulb in the sewing room that needed replacing.

Carter was shuffling cards for a new game, as he and LeBeau talked.

"Do you think Otto can help, Louis?" Carter asked.

"He's been able to help us before, _mon ami_. I just hope he can do it again." LeBeau answered.

Carter sighed.

"Sure wish the Colonel could've come home with us."

" _Moi aussi_ ," LeBeau murmured, as he picked up his hand. "But he made a good point. It's too dangerous if he was caught here in Germany. If the filthy bosche figured out he was here, the Colonel could be in more trouble than he already is."

Carter simply nodded. As much as it all made perfect sense, he still hoped there was a way to bring Hogan back to Stalag 13 and go back to how things were.

* * *

" _When did this all happen, Sergeant_?" Otto asked over the radio.

"A little over a week ago," the radioman answered.

" _Does Papa Bear know_?"

"Yes, he does; he's the one, actually, who recommended I consult in you."

" _I don't know how I can help you, for the moment. They got Gestapo patrols all over this area currently._ "

"When are they pulling troops to look in another area?"

" _Sometime in the next two days. I'll let you know what the situation is._ "

"Do you have any idea on how we can convince Major Hochstetter that the Colonel's 'dead'?"

" _I'll have to sleep on it, Sergeant. For the moment, I have nothing, but I'll report to you the moment I think of something._ "

"Thanks, Night Hawk. You take care."

" _Will do. Same to you and your men._ "

"Roger that; Papa Bear over and out."

The radio man ended the call and stood there thinking to himself for a moment. He began thinking of Hogan back in England. He wondered how he was doing and what he was doing at that very moment. He said he had the day off, so if he had to guess, Hogan was either reading a book, working on paperwork at home, or writing a letter back home to his loved ones. After coming out of his train of thought, he made his way back to the ladder. He climbed into the barracks and left the tunnel open, knowing that Newkirk was down there working on the light bulb. Olsen was keeping watch at the door, and Carter and LeBeau had finished their game.

Kinch put his foot on the bench by the little Frenchman and looked at both him and Carter.

"How'd your game go?" He asked.

"Louis won the last one," Carter said, putting away the cards.

"We got bored after about four games." LeBeau added.

"What did Otto say?"

"He said as of now, the underground has to stay low and needs to think of a plan. Apparently, wherever it is Otto's hiding out, they have Gestapo patrols all over the place. They won't be sent out to look somewhere else for at least another couple of days." Kinch replied.

Carter and LeBeau moaned.

"What are we supposed to do in the meantime? Sit here and do nothing?!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Kinch, we gotta do something to stop Hochstetter in the meanwhile." Carter pleaded.

"I'm sorry, guys, but it's the only thing we can do for now. Until we get help from Otto, I have no idea on how to stop Hochstetter and convince him Colonel Hogan 'died' the night he was flown to London for medical treatment." The Senior POW said.

Both Carter and LeBeau sighed, then nodded.

"Yes, Kinch," the young sergeant sadly said.

" _Oui, mon ami_ ," LeBeau added.

Kinch sighed, sat down at the table, and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. He was beginning to see how stressful Hogan's job was as their commanding officer. Poor guy had enough stress to make anyone snap mentally.

LeBeau turned to Carter and began talking with him.

"When's your next practice for the tournament final, André?"

"Oh golly, Louis; I'm not really sure. You'll have to ask Newkirk when he comes back from changing that faulty light bulb in the tunnels." Carter answered.

The three men were about to discuss something, when screaming and a loud 'clang' was heard down in the tunnels.

"KINCH!" A voice wailed in agony.

Kinch, LeBeau, and Carter all shot from their seats and gaped at one another.

" _Sacré chats_! What was that?!" LeBeau wailed.

"Newkirk," Carter cried.

The three of them hurried down the ladder and started sprinting in the tunnels until they made it into the sewing room. There, on the ground next to a fallen over ladder, was Newkirk beside it and clutching his right arm moaning loudly. Kinch was the first to reach him and sat down besides him on the right. Carter and LeBeau soon joined by sitting down on the Englishman's left.

"Newkirk...are you alright?" Kinch asked concerned.

"Ah...oh...me arm!" He wailed.

"Can you move it, buddy?" Carter asked.

Newkirk barely moved his arm before he started screaming again.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhh! Oh...I can't. I think me arm's broken." He moaned.

Kinch snapped his head to LeBeau.

"Get Wilson and hurry," the radioman ordered, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

" _Oui, mon ami_!"

LeBeau ran faster than he had ever ran before. Kinch watched LeBeau before he disappeared. The radio man turned back to Newkirk and tried comforting him.

"You're gonna be alright, Newkirk. Just calm down and try to relax," Kinch said soothingly.

Newkirk moaned some more. The pain was just downright unbearable. The poor Englishman could not remember anything else that hurt worse than what he was feeling now.

Kinch looked at the Englishman's shoulder and noticed it looked a bit strange. Something was off, but he could not determine what.

"Newkirk, try moving your shoulder," Kinch said.

Newkirk cried in agony and almost broke into tears just trying to move it.

"I can't move it, mate." He quivered.

Carter gently rubbed his best friend's left shoulder gently.

"You're gonna be okay, buddy. Wilson will be here soon," Carter said comforting.

After another minute of sitting and trying to soothe Newkirk, LeBeau had returned running with Wilson right on his tail. The camp medic hurried to Newkirk and knelt down beside him.

"What happened?" Wilson asked, as he gently touched his patient's arm for examination.

"I was trying to change that light bulb up there and…" Newkirk grimaced, as Wilson continued examining. He gritted his teeth until the pain subsided a little. "...the ladder started wobbling. I tried catching me balance, when...Eeerrrrrrrrrmmmm...I crashed to the ground."

"Where does it hurt, Newkirk?"

"All over, mate."

Wilson nodded and turned to Kinch.

"I've gotta get him to the infirmary. I think he's got a dislocated shoulder."

"What about the rest of his arm?" Kinch asked.

"I won't know, until I get him to the infirmary for x-rays. I think he may have a broken bone somewhere as well."

"That's bloody marvelous; now we'll have to forfeit the championship game," Newkirk moaned.

"That's alright, buddy. I'm sure we can reschedule it for when you're feeling better," Carter said, giving a small smile.

Newkirk tried standing up by himself, but screeched out in searing pain, as he put even the slightest pressure on his right arm.

"Help him up, Kinch." Wilson ordered.

Carter and Kinch both took hold of Newkirk gently and helped their friend to his feet.

"How are we gonna get him up the ladder?" LeBeau asked.

"Two of us will have to go up first while the other two stay down with Newkirk and help him get up on both ends." Kinch answered, leading Newkirk near the tunnel that would take them to the infirmary.

"Got 'cha, Kinch," Carter answered.

"LeBeau and I can be the two that go up. It'll give me a chance to prepare for x-rays," Wilson said.

Newkirk groaned.

"I gotta good feeling I'm not gonna like where this goes." The Englishman whimpered.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

Wilson put the x-rays up and pointed to something on it to Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau. The three were gathered around their friend, who was lying down on the cot by the x-ray area watching.

"See this bone right here?" Wilson asked, circling the area with his finger.

"Yeah," Carter answered.

"What about it?" LeBeau asked.

"It looks like Newkirk's got a pretty severe fracture to his ulna. Any more impact from the fall and that bone could have broke skin." Wilson replied.

LeBeau grew slightly pale hearing that. Kinch looked over and gently patted the little Frenchman's shoulder.

"What about that area up there?" Carter asked, pointing near the top of the x-ray.

"Yeah; what's that bulge up at the top?" Kinch asked, wondering as well.

"Newkirk's shoulder is dislocated. I'll have to reset it before I can do anything further for his broken ulna," Wilson said.

The Englishman moaned.

"Can't yah just let me live like this for the rest of me life?" He asked. The sound of getting his shoulder relocated did not sound pleasant one bit.

"Not unless you ever want complete mobility of your right arm again." Wilson replied.

"Joe...is it gonna hurt?" Carter asked, worried for his best friend.

Wilson's face was expressionless and silent for a moment. The camp medic finally let out a deep breath.

"Yes," He simply answered.

"Aw, great...just bloody marvelous." Newkirk mumbled annoyed. Just what he wanted to hear: more pain for him to endure.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you three to leave now. I need a quiet environment for Newkirk to relax." Wilson ordered softly.

Kinch nodded.

"Understood, Joe; come on, guys," the dark sergeant said.

LeBeau and Carter looked at Newkirk once more, gave their friend sympathetic looks, then left the area. Wilson closed a curtain for privacy, as Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau sat nearby and waited impatiently. Kinch paced back and forth, as Carter and LeBeau sat next to one another on an unoccupied cot.

"Sure hope Newkirk's gonna be okay," Carter said. He was worried for his best friend. He wanted nothing more than to be able to take his pain away and make him better again.

"Don't worry, _mon ami_. Pierre will be just fine." LeBeau reassured his friend.

The three men suddenly heard a blood curdling scream from behind the curtain. They snapped their attention to where it came from. They assumed Wilson had reset Newkirk's shoulder back into place.

"Correction; _now_ he'll be alright," LeBeau said.

Carter gulped with a look of terror on his face.

Wilson opened the curtain.

"You guys can come back now." He permitted.

The three men hurried to their friend's side. Newkirk was sweating and fighting back from crying.

"How are you doing, Newkirk?" Kinch asked kindly.

"Bloody charming," he whimpered.

"You'll soon feel better, buddy; promise," Carter said comforting.

"He'll have to be put into a sling and cast. He should be healed in about two to three weeks." Wilson diagnosed.

"Two to three weeks!" LeBeau cried.

"You're kidding!" Carter exclaimed.

"The man's got a serious fracture and sore shoulder that had to be set back into place. I do not joke about such serious cases." Wilson replied, with slight harshness in his voice.

"We're just glad it's nothing life threatening. That fall could have been ten times worse than it already was," Kinch said.

"Yes; that it could've been indeed," Wilson said.

"You're sure he'll be alright, though?" Carter asked, wanting confirmation.

"Yes, Newkirk will be alright. I'm giving him strong pain medicine, though, for the next 48 hours. He will not be able to attend roll call for the next two days."

"That's fine, Joe. I'll tell Klink. Just come with me, when I do so. I want you there to clarify any medical issues," Kinch said.

Wilson nodded.

"Will do, Kinch."

After putting his arm in a cast and in a sling, both Carter and LeBeau helped a very drowsy and confused Newkirk back to the barracks, as Kinch and Wilson walked to the Kommandantur's to talk with Klink about what had just happened in the last few hours.

* * *

"Fell from his bunk?" Klink asked, rising to his feet.

"He was taking a nap and rolled off on accident." Kinch continued.

Klink turned to Wilson.

"Sergeant Wilson, what's the damage?"

"Newkirk had a dislocated shoulder that needed to be reset back into place and has a severely fractured ulna. He should make a complete recovery within the next two to three weeks." The medic reported.

"Two to three weeks!"

"The man has suffered a major injury, Kommandant. Surely, you can understand that."

"What if I need him for road work?"

"You'll have to manage without him until he recovers. I'm giving him strong medicine for pain for the next two days, so Newkirk will not be able to attend any roll calls for the next 48 hours."

Klink sighed and nodded.

"Alright; but I will have Sergeant Schultz check in on him to make sure it's not some plan to escape." The Kommandant warned.

"Now, why would we try to escape out of the toughest POW camp in all of Germany?" Kinch asked.

Klink was silent and thought on that for a second.

"You do make a good point, Sergeant Kinchloe...but I still will have Schultz check in on him!"

"Fine by me, Kommandant."

"Diiiiiiiiiiissssssmiiiiiiiiiiiiisssssed."

Both Kinch and Wilson saluted and left Klink's office to return to their barracks for the night.

* * *

Newkirk was fast asleep in Carter's bunk. The young sergeant had let his best friend sleep there until his arm had fully healed. As for him, LeBeau, and Kinch, the three men sat at the table and talked with one another regarding their current situation.

"What are we gonna do, Kinch? We can't do this without Pierre," LeBeau said, as he took a drink of coffee.

"I don't know, Louis." Kinch answered, as he looked at his hands on the table.

"Well, without Newkirk, there's no way we'll be able to finish this mission successfully," Carter said, putting his head in his hands.

The dark man sighed.

"This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" Kinch mumbled. He took a drink of his coffee and let out another sigh.

Olsen walked over to the three of them and sat down at the table with them.

"There's still hope for success, Kinch. You can't single yourself out now," he said, trying to be encouraging.

Kinch gave a small smile.

"Thanks, Olsen. I just don't know what to do without Newkirk. He's our best German impersonator over the phone we've got. On top of that, if something needs lock breaking or pick pocketing, we have nobody." He replied.

"Well, Newkirk doesn't necessarily need two arms to impersonate someone over the phone," Olsen said.

"He makes a point, Kinch," LeBeau said.

The radioman nodded.

"You think Newkirk will be well enough in two days?" Carter asked.

"He's gotta be, Carter. We're nothing without him," Kinch said, taking another drink of coffee.

A thought then occurred to LeBeau. He looked up at his friend.

"Kinch, who's manning the radio in the tunnels?"

"I've got Baker down there right now. Segal will switch with him in another hour."

Carter sighed sadly.

"I just wish we could just think of something to get this whole situation dealt with already." The young sergeant groaned.

"You and I both, Carter...you and I both." Kinch replied.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

Two days went by, and nothing much occurred. Newkirk mainly slept for the most part, and Kinch waited endless hours to hear back from Otto regarding the Gestapo patrols being pulled out of the area he was hiding out in. So far, no response came, and the four heroes were growing anxious. Happily, Newkirk no longer needed the strong pain medicine and was able to work with his friends again.

It was evening, and the prisoners were wrapping up their outdoor activities for the night. For the moment, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau were all sitting at the table with cups of coffee talking with one another. Newkirk was slightly irritated with the fact he could not have a cigarette due to his recent injury. The only thing he could do was lift up his coffee cup and drink out of it.

Kinch looked up for a moment at his British friend and smiled.

"Having trouble there, Newkirk?" The sergeant teased.

"Very funny, Kinch." The corporal grumbled.

"Hey, buddy; what's it like to only have one arm to use?" Carter asked. He was curious as to how Newkirk was managing and feeling right now. The fact of being limited to doing activities and assignments must have been killing him. Newkirk always had his hands busy with something. Whether it being sewing, dealing cards, smoking a cigarette, playing sports, or whatever the else it was, he was a part of it.

The Englishman looked up at Carter, his face at first expressionless.

"I'll tell you what it's like, Andrew. I feel like a mangy crippled bird that can't fly away." He growled. He was not necessarily angry with Carter, Kinch, LeBeau, or anybody at camp. He was just upset with the fact that his broken arm was constricting him from doing his normal, everyday activities...and the fact that his arm ached every now and again. He always tried to make as little notice to that as possible, though.

"Aw, cheer up, Newkirk. You heard Wilson; it'll only be two to three weeks before your arm's better again," Kinch said, trying to be encouraging.

"I might lose me bleedin' _mind_ in another two to three weeks! This sling is more irritating than Andrew's rambling!" Newkirk cried.

Carter looked up confused. He had been zoning out the entire time and missed the whole conversation.

"What?...Did someone say my name?" The young sergeant asked.

Newkirk rolled his bright blue eyes and looked back at Kinch again.

"Kinch, I can't live three weeks without the use of me arm. There must be something I can get around. A loophole to this entire mess!"

"Sorry, Newkirk. You're stuck with that thing, unfortunately. It's not my decision; it's Joe's."

The Englishman looked off to the left and sneered.

"Bloody marvelous. Well, I tell yah one thing, if Klink calls my 'gimpy' one more time, I'll take me one good hand and wring his bleedin' neck." He promised with anger.

"Killing Klink's not gonna fix your arm, Pierre." LeBeau pointed out.

"It'd sure make me feel a lot better," Newkirk said, irritated.

Everyone was briefly silent, when the little Frenchman decided to start a new conversation. He turned to Kinch.

"Anything from London or Otto, _mon ami_?" He asked.

"Not unless you count a check in from General Berkman anything." Kinch replied.

"Did he say anything about the Colonel?" Carter asked.

"Ooooo! I wanna know how _mon Colonel_ is doing," LeBeau said, with glee.

The dark sergeant smirked.

"I wish; he said the Colonel's very busy with working together with British Intelligence trying to track down a new radar system the Germans are working on."

"We don't have to worry about that, do we?" LeBeau moaned.

"This whole thing with Hochstetter's bad enough." Carter added.

"No, nothing like that. He just wanted to have an update in what's going on around here, is all," Kinch said.

Newkirk tried moving and wiggling his fingers on his right arm, but winced every time he tried. It was painful just to move his thumb up and down. He sighed and took another drink of coffee. How he wished for a cigarette right now.

"Hey, Kinch," Carter started. "You think now that Colonel Hogan knows what's going on, you think he could be able to help us via radio?"

"I think he's too busy with his new job to be able to help us, Carter. I'm sorry," The dark sergeant said, with sympathy. He wanted Hogan's help as much as all of them did. They would not disturb him and his new line of work, however. The four men did not want to add any more stress to Hogan than he already had, as of now being Berkman's second in command.

"...we could ask Crittendon." Carter suggested. He knew it was the most stupid idea possible, but it was an option.

" _Crittendon_! You're crazy!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Just what do you think _that_ man can help us with, Andrew?!" Newkirk cried.

"That man would get us killed _and_ the Colonel!"

"It was just a suggestion, guys...a _stupid_ one, but a suggestion," Carter said.

"'Stupid' doesn't even _begin_ to describe that man." LeBeau murmured.

"The man's a ruddy _maniac_ , when it comes to something like this. He'd probably kill us with our own idea," Newkirk said.

"Sounds about accurate," Kinch said.

Even he had to admit that fact. Colonel Rodney Crittendon of the RAF was a monstrosity and a nightmare, when it came to planning and ideas. He was an absolute moron and made it even worse, when he always used the 'outrank' card on Hogan, when he was still in command at Stalag 13. It meant that Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter were forced to doing whatever the British colonel wanted the four of them to. They had not heard from the man in quite a long while. Probably a good thing in their case, too. Who knows what kind of mortifying idea he would come up with to get Hochstetter to drop the whole investigation.

The fake bunk opened, and Dray came out from the tunnels. He had been monitoring the radio for the past three hours and alternated with Baker. He climbed out of the bed frame and made his way over to Kinch.

"Message just came in from the underground, Kinch." Dray reported. His face read nothing.

The four men sitting at the table shot up to their feet.

"From who?" The dark sergeant asked, trying to hold back his anxiety.

"Someone by the code name 'Midnight Owl'. He didn't leave many specifics." Dray answered.

"What did he say, Walter?"

"He said the Gestapo patrols have been cleared out and located to another part of the area."

"Anything from Otto?"

"Yes; he said Otto's coming sometime tonight with something old."

"Something old,"

"That's what the man said."

Newkirk looked at Kinch, then back at his friend, a little suspicious of what he was saying.

"Are you sure this guy ain't just pulling your leg, mate?" The English corporal asked.

"I asked him to repeat himself four times, Newkirk. The man said the same thing each time." Dray answered.

"Something old," LeBeau said, to himself. He wondered what it meant. Did it even _have_ a meaning? Was it code for something they were not picking up on? The same questions were running through everyone's minds.

"What does it mean?" Carter asked, crossing his arms. His face contorted with confusion.

"I know as much as you guys know as to what 'something old' means," Dray said.

"Did Otto say anything?" Kinch asked.

"Negative, Kinch. I only spoke to the one man."

"What time is Otto coming tonight?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you 'don't know'?!" LeBeau wailed.

"He didn't give a time. All he said was that Otto was coming here sometime tonight with something old." Dray replied. He wanted to give his friends more clarified answers, but sadly, he held none.

Kinch sighed and nodded.

"Thanks, Dray. It's enough, I guess," he said. Kinch was still mystified over what 'something old' might have a reference to. A plan they had used in the past? An underground member they had worked with before? Crittendon? He only had his guesses, but unfortunately, he had no answers.

Dray nodded and walked over to where Segal was, and the two of them began conversing with one another.

LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk surrounded Kinch. The radio man started heading towards the tunnel, as did the others following him.

"What does it mean, _mon ami_?" LeBeau wondered.

"Something old?" Carter asked.

"I think it's a ruddy scam, that's what," Newkirk said. He was the last to go down. He was the slowest, being that he had only one arm to climb down with.

"I don't know. It sounds odd, though." Kinch replied.

The radioman reached the radio table and was joined by his three friends.

"What do you mean 'odd'?" Carter asked.

"Something tells me the underground isn't giving us the whole story here," Kinch said, starting to ponder his thoughts. "I think they're hiding something from us."

"Like what, _mon ami_?" LeBeau asked.

"I'm not sure," Kinch said.

"If someone turned against us, they better hope they don't come across me path." Newkirk warned. His eyes burned with fire.

"On what grounds, Pierre? You only have one arm." LeBeau replied, crossing his arms.

"You wanna be next, Louis?" Newkirk asked, turning his head around.

"Alright, guys; let's focus here," Kinch said, gathering everyone's attention again.

Carter continued to be perplexed. He could not stop thinking about the 'something old'. By what did the underground mean 'something old'?

"I'm still confused. What's this 'something old' this guy was referring to?" The young sergeant asked.

"That's what we'd _all_ like to know." Kinch replied.

"Could be anything, Andrew," Newkirk said.

"Should we be worried, Kinch?" LeBeau asked.

The new commander of the operation leaned forward with his arms crossed against the table and sighed.

"Not yet, guys...not yet," he said, still pondering his thoughts.

* * *

It was around midnight. There were hardly any animals around and nothing more but the moon to lighten up the forest area. A man wearing black shoes, pants, trench coat, and hat appeared from hiding behind a tree. He had a mustache and thick black-grayish hair to match his brown eyes. He looked around quick to make sure no one else was around, then he turned back to where he had once hid and smiled. He gestured for someone to come over to him.

"Coast's clear," The man said.

Another man then appeared from where they were hiding. He smiled and nodded to the man.

"Thought that patrol was _never_ gonna leave," The other man said softly.

"Good thing they did. We're just about to Stalag 13, and who knows how many Gestapo officers are posted along the wall."

"I'm not too worried, Otto. We've done this enough times, it's as easy as counting to ten for us."

The underground member nodded, then looked back at the man.

"I wonder what your men are doing? I told Jerry to not leave too much information in the message for Dray to relay to Kinch," The slightly older man said.

"What did you tell him to say?" The man asked, interested.

"I don't know if he used my exact wording, but I told him to tell Dray that I was coming sometime tonight with something old."

The man smirked.

"I'm old now?" He asked, smiling.

"Well, that's not what I meant by it." Otto started.

Both men softly chuckled.

"Come on; let's get going. I'm anxious to see my boys again." The man said, with a grin.

Otto smiled back and nodded.

"And I'm sure they'll be thrown over the moon to have you back, too."

The man with him smiled and the two of them continued on their journey to Stalag 13.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:**

Klink was pacing back and forth in his office. He was trying to think of a way to get Hochstetter to forget the entire investigation and drop it. He could make a death certificate for Hogan. No, that would never do. Hochstetter would know it was counterfeit the moment he saw it. He could call and ask to get another one sent to him. But who would he call? If what Hochstetter said about Captain Gebauer and the sergeants was true, then they were nowhere to be contacted with. He did not even know where the men were.

As Klink sunk further into his thoughts, a knock came on the door.

"Come in," he said, trying to think of a solution.

The door opened, and Schultz walked in. He closed the door behind him, and the big sergeant walked over to the Kommandant.

"You wanted to see me, _Herr Kommandant_?" Schultz asked.

"Ah, Schultz; I need your help." Klink started.

" _My_ help?" Schultz asked shocked. Not once had Klink ever asked for his help. He knew this had to be pretty important, if he was.

"We've got to do something to get Hochstetter to close the investigation. The sooner we do, the sooner General Burkhalter will leave, and I can go back to living my life in peace," Klink paused and swallowed a knot in his throat. "...as much peace as I usually get around here, that is." Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau were always bothering him about something. _That_ , unfortunately, would never end.

"What do you want _me_ to do about it, _Herr Kommandant_?" Schultz wondered. He was slightly confused as to how he could help Klink with this.

"We have to find enough evidence to prove that Colonel Hogan died the night he was taken to Hadamar," The German colonel turned around and surrendered to Schultz. "Any ideas?"

Schultz thought for a minute about it. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"No," the big guard answered.

"Ah, I should've known! You're _never_ any help." Klink moaned tiredly, waving his second in command off. The old Kommandant went back to pacing his office and praying to God that he would think of a million dollar solution that would put all of this behind. He was hoping that he would be past Hogan's death and worrying about other things by now: camp inspections from Burkhalter, Hogan's old men causing him mischief and trouble, dealing with Schultz, trying to please Hochstetter every time he came around...and yet, that was not the case. Just thinking about the night Hogan died was enough to kill the old Kommandant on the inside. His one true friend...gone. Just like that. How he wished he could go back to that night and save Hogan from his tragedy. Klink put a fist against his mouth, as he went back and remembered that awful night he got the phone call.

* * *

( _Six and a half months ago; Stalag 13, Germany. Around 11PM_ )

It was almost 11:30 at night, and Klink and Burkhalter were in the middle of a game of chess. Klink was taking his time to think of his next move. The general had beat him in the last two games, and the Kommandant was determined to beat him in this one. He was about to attempt his move, when a knock came on the door.

Klink looked up, then quickly back at the chessboard to go back and think again. He had forgot what his move had been.

"Come in," Klink said monotone.

The door opened, and Schultz walked in.

"Yes, Schultz; what is it?"

"Just wanted you to know that everything is quiet in the camp, _Herr Kommandant_ ," Schultz said softly.

"Excellent, Schultz,"

Exhausted, Klink decided to let Burkhalter win this game as well. He could not think straight. His mind was elsewhere. He could not stop thinking of Hogan and how sick he looked the last time he saw him. Hogan's skin had been pale white, his eyes clouded over and disconnected from life. He had never seen his Senior POW look so terrible or so lifeless before. Hogan had always been so upbeat, positive, and energetic. Seeing him just sit there in one place looking blankly out at nothing was heartbreaking to him.

"Klink, if I didn't know better, I would say you purposely made that move to let me win," Burkhalter said smirking. He moved his pawn. "Checkmate."

"You won again, sir. It's obvious I have yet to master your skills," Klink said, forcing a childish grin. He looked at the board then back at Schultz. He was still there? "Why are you still here?!"

"Did you or General Burkhalter need anything?" Schultz asked.

As he was about to answer, the telephone rang. Klink got up, sat down at his desk, and answered the phone. "Colonel Klink speaking. Who...oh yes, Captain Gebauer...yes, General Burkhalter is here. We were waiting for a phone call from you sooner or later." Klink stopped and handed his commanding officer the phone.

Burkhalter took the phone and began speaking.

"General Burkhalter here, Captain. What's the latest news?" The big general asked. Klink and Schultz noticed Burkhalter's expression change, and his skin color began to slowly grow pale. "He's dead? Are you sure?...Thank you for the call, Captain. _Gute nacht_."

Burkhalter hung up and put the phone back on Klink's desk.

"I take it there was bad news, _Herr General_?" The kommandant gulped. He was afraid he knew what was coming.

"Captain Gebauer told me while traveling to the train station, Colonel Hogan went mad and tried attacking one of the guards. He was shot to death." Burkhalter replied.

Klink went into complete and utter shock. He could not recall what happened between Schultz and Burkhalter after that. The next thing he remembered was his commanding officer addressing him.

"The matter is finished, as far as I'm concerned and as far as you're concerned, Klink."

" _Herr General_ ," the kommandant began uneasy. "What do we tell the prisoners?"

"Nothing! Colonel Hogan's death will remain between the three of us, understood?!"

"Yes, sir."

Klink slouched in his seat. It was hard to fight off his true feelings from showing, but managed in Burkhalter's presence.

"Why the long face, Klink? With Colonel Hogan dead, you should see less of Major Hochstetter from now on. You should be grateful." The general stated.

The Kommandant again had entered into shock. Hogan was dead. He was gone. He would never see him or talk to him again. He came out of it, when Schultz asked if he was dismissed.

He nodded and dismissed Schultz, then he went back to talking with Burkhalter.

"Klink, you will prepare a report to Berlin tomorrow morning and explain what has happened. You will include that on the way to Hadamar, Colonel Hogan attempted to attack one of the guards and was shot dead. Understood?" The general asked.

"Yes, sir," Klink said softly. He was praying to God that Burkhalter would soon leave.

"Good. It's been a long day, Klink. I will turn in now, and tomorrow, I will leave for Berlin after checking your report."

"Good night, General Burkhalter."

Burkhalter left Klink's office, and the kommandant sighed. He got up slowly and slumped his shoulders. He walked over to his wine cabinet like a zombie. After grabbing a glass and a bottle of brandy, he poured some into his glass and stared at it blankly for what felt like forever. He hung his head in shame and shook it sadly. Then he lifted it to the ceiling, looked at it for a brief moment, and spoke to the Heavens.

"What have I done?" He asked guilt ridden.

* * *

Klink was brought out of his memory by Schultz calling his name. A tear was rolling down the old Kommandant's face. Thankfully, he was facing away from his sergeant of the guard, so he could not see the fact that his commanding officer was crying.

"Kommandant! Kommandant Klink!" Schultz cried.

Klink quickly wiped away the tear and turned around quickly to face the sergeant.

"Yes, Schultz?" The kommandant asked. He shook his head to return himself back to reality again.

"Am I dismissed, _Herr Kommandant_?"

"Yes, yes, you're dismissed," Klink said, waving him off.

Schultz nodded and left Klink's office. After being sure he was gone, Klink walked back to his desk and plopped down into his chair. He folded his arms across his desk, buried his face in them, and sighed. He soon enough fell asleep from complete exhaustion. To be honest, he was glad to go to enter unconsciousness and a dreamless sleep, too.

* * *

Otto and the man were wandering in one of the tunnels laughing about something. They grew silent, when they heard voices close by. The man smiled, knowing exactly who their owners were. Otto turned to his friend, smiled, and put his fingers to his lips. He wanted to surprise the guys at the right moment. The man did, too. They simply stood in the entrance of the radio room and smiled, as they listened in on the discussion. Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau were gathered around trying to plan something in particular. They had no knowledge or even noticed the man and Otto were present.

"Oh, I got a great idea," Carter began excited. "So we all dress up as Gestapo an…" Newkirk cut Carter off from going any further.

"Now what good's _that_ gonna do, Andrew?!"

"Now, hold up there, Newkirk. Maybe Carter's on to something," Kinch said. He turned back to the young man and gestured for him to continue on his thought.

"Well, actually, that's all I got, so far," he said innocently.

Newkirk rolled his eyes. He was extremely irritated.

"I got an idea." LeBeau mumbled.

"Louis," Kinch warned.

"Well, it's an idea!" The little Frenchman replied in a fiery way.

"Oh yeah; and have us all go under suspicion and be shot. That sounds _real_ nice, Louis." Newkirk sneered.

"And what idea do you have, Pierre?" LeBeau remarked.

"Nothing for the moment. But when I do come up with something, it'll be a whole lot better than killing the bloody man!"

LeBeau glared at the Englishman. He did not care whether his arm was broken or not. His crabby attitude was starting to get on the Frenchman's nerves.

"Alright, _enough_! _All_ of you! We'll never get _anything_ done, if you guys continue arguing with one another," Kinch ordered. He was growing tired of the disagreements between everybody.

Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau sighed and nodded.

"Alright, mate," Newkirk said softly. He had to admit; he had been a bit harsh to everyone since breaking his arm. It was not any of his friends' faults. He just needed someone or something to take his anger out on. "I'm sorry for me crummy behavior."

"Oh, it's alright, buddy. I don't blame yah for being in a bad mood. I mean, we _all_ would be, if we were going through what you are currently," Carter said understanding.

Newkirk smiled small. He may grow irritated with the man sometimes, but he loved Carter dearly. He was the best friend a guy could have.

"Thanks, Andrew," Newkirk said sincerely.

Carter returned the smile.

"No problem, buddy," he said.

Newkirk patted Carter's shoulder gently, then went back to what the four men had at task.

"Kinch, do you have any ideas, _mon ami_?" LeBeau asked.

"Not a damn thing," the sergeant said sighing.

"Boy...this is sure harder than it looks," Carter said stumped.

"I say there's no loophole, _this_ time," Newkirk said, starting to come to grips with reality.

"Maybe we're not looking at it the right way," LeBeau said, hopefully taking their situation in another direction now.

"A different way of looking at it...different way of looking at it...that's what the Colonel always told us, when we got stuck," Kinch said, trying to think of something.

LeBeau sighed and put his chin in his hands.

"But _what_?" He stressed. The little Frenchman was absolutely stumped on this one.

The man with Otto chuckled.

"Looks like you guys could use a little help." The man said.

" _Oui, mon Colonel_ ," LeBeau said sadly. In another five seconds, he had realized what he had just said, and his eyes bugged out. "Colonel!"

The four men shot their attention over to where they heard the voice come from, and none of them could believe the sight they saw. There, in front of them, was Otto. And standing right next to him was the most amazing sight of all: Colonel Hogan.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:**

"COLONEL!" All four men cried. They ran from where they were, and Carter and LeBeau hugged him tight.

"We missed you, Colonel!" the little Frenchman said with glee.

"You sure bet we did!" Carter chimed in, beaming.

Hogan could not help but smile, wrapped an arm around each man, and hugged them back.

"Well, looks like we figured out what our 'something old' was, didn't we, gentlemen," Kinch said, as he crossed his arms and smiling.

"Otto, mate; how'd yah do it?" Newkirk asked, smiling at Hogan.

"It wasn't easy, Newkirk. After several talks and negotiations with General Berkman and the Colonel here, I was able to convince them that once this whole mess is blown over, you'd be able to find a way to get Colonel Hogan back into camp." Otto answered.

"I'll find a way if it kills me," LeBeau said, determined. Both he and Carter were still hugging their commanding officer. They were thrilled to have him back again.

"I'm in!" Carter cheered.

Kinch nodded.

"Thanks, Otto," The radio man said, sincerely.

Otto nodded, smiling.

"You're welcome, Sergeant Kinchloe." Otto turned to look at Hogan. "Good to have Papa Bear back in business."

"And I'm glad to be back," Hogan said, smiling.

"Well, I bid you men 'goodnight'." The agent spoke, nodding his head.

"'Night, Otto," Newkirk replied.

"Stay safe, Otto," Kinch warned in a friendly way.

"Always do so, my good man," the underground agent said. He tipped his hat slightly, then put it back on his head. He smiled at Hogan once more, then made his way out of the tunnels. When he was gone, Newkirk and Kinch gathered around Carter and LeBeau and reunited themselves with their commanding officer.

"Boy, do we have stories to tell you, Colonel!" Carter cheered.

"I'm going to make you the most delicious breakfast you ever _had_ tomorrow, Colonel," LeBeau said, dreaming of his plan for tomorrow. Nothing said 'welcome home' more than a big plate of scrambled eggs with a side of crispy bacon and a buttered biscuit.

"Whoa, guys; let's not tire the Colonel out here. He just got back, after all. Besides; we have Hochstetter to worry about right now," Kinch said.

"I've got an idea," LeBeau said, slicing his neck with his finger.

"LeBeau, for the _last_ time, we're _not_ killing Hochstetter," the sergeant ordered.

The little Frenchman "humphed" and crossed his arms. He was fed up with the idea being instantly thrown off the table.

Hogan chuckled, then turned to Newkirk, and his face changed to deep concern. His friend was in a sling and cast. He wondered what happened since last seeing him in London.

"Newkirk, what happened to you?" He asked worried.

"Why don't you go try changing that bleedin' light bulb in the sewing room; _then_ you'll know why." Newkirk groaned. He had been trying to forget about his injury.

"Newkirk had a bit of an accident when trying to change the dead light bulb in the sewing room. The ladder tipped over due to uneven balance, and he had his shoulder dislocated and broke his ulna." Kinch reported.

"Thanks for remindin' me, mate." The Englishman growled.

"Pierre's been a bit crabby, _mon Colonel_. No worries," LeBeau said.

Hogan smirked.

"As long as he'll be alright."

"I will be in another week or two." Newkirk hoped.

Carter and LeBeau walked Hogan to the empty cot alongside the wall and had him take a seat. All that walking he did had probably exhausted him.

"How do you feel, Colonel?" Carter asked.

Hogan sighed.

"Tired, but I'll be alright after a good night's sleep."

"I should probably have Dr. Klaussner come out tomorrow and have him and Wilson check you over," Kinch said. (1)

"Good idea, mate." Newkirk confirmed.

"Guys, I'm fine. I don't need a doctor," Hogan said.

The four of them turned back with stern looks in their eyes.

"Gov'nor, you're seeing Dr. Klaussner tomorrow whether you like it or not, and I don't _care_ if you have me court martialed," Newkirk said a little harsh.

"We're not losing you twice, Colonel." Kinch added.

The colonel let out a big breath of air. He could understand where his crew and friends were coming from. He appreciated their concern and on normal cases, would be relentless to getting checked out. With everything that had happened almost seven months ago, however, he would give in and be checked out anyways.

"Alright, guys...I'll have Richard and Wilson check me out in the morning," Hogan said tiredly. Personally, he just wanted to end the discussion so he could go to sleep. He was exhausted from a long flight and walking for another two hours after that.

"I'll get on the radio and let Richard know," Kinch said.

"Kinch, where's Colonel Hogan gonna sleep?" Carter asked concerned.

"He'll have to stay down here for a while. It's only safe that way." He answered.

"We'll let him sleep in that nice room just down this way," LeBeau said, pointing to a tunnel to the left of him.

Hogan smiled weakly.

"Thanks, LeBeau," He said softly.

Kinch headed to the radio, and Newkirk walked Hogan down the tunnel to his temporary residence. They entered into the area where a comfy bed, a nightstand, and a bathroom were. Hogan set his luggage down by the side of the wall, then he sat down on the bed. It was so comforting, the colonel literally fell onto his back and sighed in relief feeling such a soft surface.

Newkirk smirked.

"You relax for the night, Gov'nor. You deserve it," The Englishman said.

Hogan looked up, holding himself up with his elbows, and smiled back.

"Thanks, Newkirk. Tell the guys I said 'Good night'."

"I will, Sir. Good night, mate."

"Good night, Newkirk."

Newkirk smiled once more, then he walked out and left his commanding officer to himself.

Hogan rose from the bed, opened his suitcase, and he pulled out his pajamas, bathrobe, and slippers. After getting settled into his sleepwear, he crawled in underneath the covers and sighed again, smiling. He turned off the lamp and soon enough was fast asleep. He was glad to be home again.

* * *

Kinch finished speaking with Dr. Klaussner, climbed up the ladder into the barracks, closed the fake bunk, then he made his way to the table where Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk were sitting. Everyone else was asleep. The radio man signaled them to hopefully what would become Hogan's room again. The three stood and followed Kinch to the small room. He closed the door after making sure no one was listening. He turned the light on and began talking.

"I think it would be best, if we kept the news of the Colonel being back in camp between just the four of us for now," the sergeant said.

"What about the guys in our barracks?" Carter asked.

"They know what's going on, mate." Newkirk added.

"Not even the guys in our barracks. It's the only way to keep the Colonel as safe as possible until we find a way to sneak him back into camp...you know...after we get the mess with Hochstetter settled with," Kinch said firm.

"You gotta point there, mate." Newkirk replied.

"So it's settled; no one knows that Colonel Hogan's back besides the four of us until further notice," Kinch ordered.

"Yes, Kinch," All three of them said.

Newkirk looked at his watch and nodded.

"I say the four of us turn in for the night. Roll call's in about five hours." The Englishman reported.

"Good idea, Newkirk," Kinch said.

The four of them left the room and crawled in their bunks for the night. Sleep soon enough hit them.

* * *

"Roll call! Everybody up, up, up, up! _Raus_!" Schultz bellowed, as he banged on the prisoners' bunks of barracks two.

All the men started to moan, as the lights switched on to welcome morning. The sun was already out.

"Aw blimey, Schultzie. Can't you let us sleep for a few more minutes?" Newkirk moaned. He rubbed his eyes with his good hand.

"The Kommandant says 'everybody up'." Schultz reported.

"Guess that means 'we're getting up' then," Kinch said, already putting on his boots.

Schultz left the barracks to let everyone get ready.

Carter and LeBeau were putting on their shoes, while Kinch helped Newkirk tie his boots. The Englishman felt a tad ridiculous being seen not able to do something as tie his own shoes. He sighed and turned to the right.

"Hurry up there, would you, Kinch? I feel like a moron just sitting here." Newkirk grumbled.

"It's not your fault, Newkirk. We all know you've got a broken arm," the dark man said friendly.

"Yeah, but I don't like being bloody waited on."

"Which reminds me." LeBeau was about to continue, when the barracks door opened again. Schultz came back.

"Out! Out, out, out, out, Out! Everybody out!" The German sergeant bellowed.

"We hear you loud and clear, Schultzie." Kinch replied, standing to his feet. Newkirk shortly followed.

LeBeau sighed.

"Come on. The sooner we get this done, the better." The little Frenchman moaned.

Everyone in barracks two got outside and stood in two lines of seven. They stood there shivering and rubbing their arms, as they waited for Klink to come out for the report that everybody was there. Newkirk turned to look at LeBeau.

"I tell yah the only good thing about this cast is that it's keeping me arm warm." The Englishman murmured.

"Wish I had one." LeBeau grumbled, irritated with Klink taking forever to show up.

Soon enough, a door slammed shut, and the ringing of Klink's voice took over the camp.

"Reeeepooooooooooooorrrrrt!"

Schultz turned around and saluted Klink. The kommandant did the same back to his sergeant of the guard.

"All prisoners here and accounted for, _Herr Kommandant_ ," Schultz said, pleased.

"Excellent, Schultz," Klink replied, smirking. He was in a good mood for some reason. "Gentlemen, it is my greatest pleasure to report to you that," Newkirk cut him off.

"Hey, everybody! They're surrendering!"

Everyone started cheering and high fiving one another.

"Corporal Newkirk! You may be injured, but I'll still throw you in the cooler!" Klink threatened, shaking his fist.

"Sorry, Kommandant. You said 'greatest pleasure'." He replied.

Klink glared at him for a moment longer.

"Diiiiisssmiiiiiiiissssseeed," the kommandant said sharply. He turned on his boot and with Schultz following, went back inside the Kommandantur. All fourteen men walked back into the barracks, and LeBeau started to make breakfast. Newkirk, Kinch, and Carter sat down at the table and waited.

"How do you think our 'guest' is doing, Kinch?" Newkirk asked softly.

"Hopefully he's getting as much sleep as needed. Wilson said he'd examine him when Richard got out here later today," Kinch said.

"He'll have to use the emergency tunnel," LeBeau said.

"It's the only safest option we have, mate," Newkirk said, as he took a drink of coffee.

"Wait a minute; why can't Richard just say he's here to check on Newkirk's arm?" Carter asked.

"Not with everything going on right now. It may seem suspicious," Kinch said.

Carter nodded.

LeBeau had finished making breakfast and gave the three at the table their plates, then the little Frenchman took a tray with a cup of coffee and a plate with scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and a buttered biscuit over to the fake bunk bed and banged it open.

Kinch could not hold back a chuckle.

"Louis; that's sure an awful lot of food for our guest."

"Anything to satisfy his needs, _mon ami_." LeBeau replied. He smiled and climbed down the ladder carefully.

Kinch smiled, then as he took a drink of coffee, something began to wander around in his mind. LeBeau all of a sudden seemed to be acting as Hogan's servant. Maybe it was just nothing and trying to welcome him back, but he could not shake a certain feeling off of him. Something was up with LeBeau. And he was determined to figure out what that something was.

* * *

(1) Dr. Richard Klaussner is an underground agent and medical surgeon I created. His first appearance is in my story 'Find the Silver Lining'. I'm happy to lend him out to other writers if they wish, however, I only will do so after giving you my permission first.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19:**

LeBeau reached the tunnel room where Hogan was currently residing. He walked in and was happy to find his commanding officer standing in front of the mirror, as he zipped up his leather jacket halfway and checked to make sure his cap was on straight. He turned to LeBeau with his eyes bugging out. He had never seen so much food on one plate before. The American could not help himself from laughing.

"LeBeau, you trying to fatten me up there? I think my meals in London already helped me with that," Hogan said, as he patted his middle. He did seem to be a little heavier than when they had seen him last. It was probably because he was able to access _actual_ food.

"Just making sure you get _everything_ you deserve, Colonel. I want to make your 'welcome back' enjoyable as much as possible," The little Frenchman said, with glee.

Hogan gave a soft smile and blushed slightly.

"Well, thank you, LeBeau. That means a lot to me," He said sincerely.

LeBeau put the tray down on the desk in the room and walked back to be directly in front of his commanding officer.

"Anything else you need, Colonel? A back rub? Massage? Dessert? Extra pillows and blankets?"

Hogan held up a hand chuckling.

"I'm good, LeBeau. I'll let you know the minute I need something."

"Good. You just come to _me_ , Colonel! Your wish is my command."

"My only wish for you is to go upstairs and get some breakfast before you starve."

"I shall do it with honor, Colonel!"

LeBeau dashed out of the room and back up the ladder to the barracks.

Leaving Hogan to himself, he at first laughed and shook his head, then he sat down at his desk and started eating his meal. He closed his eyes and smiled. He had missed LeBeau's cooking dearly. It tasted heavenly to eat his meals once again. He continued savoring his breakfast and took a drink of his coffee. He puckered at first, not used to the awful taste. He then adjusted after remembering how the coffee Stalag 13 supplied tasted. _Far_ from the coffee he had to drink in London. Hogan started laughing to himself and picked his cup up again.

"Welcome home, Robert," he said, and he took another drink of coffee.

* * *

A few hours had gone by. While Dr. Klaussner and Wilson were in the tunnels examining Hogan thoroughly, the rest of the guys were either outside enjoying the summer sunshine or inside reading and playing board games. In barracks two, it was just three guys inside. Carter was playing gin with Newkirk, who sometimes grew irritated with the fact that having one arm made the game more difficult to play. LeBeau was sitting on Carter's bunk knitting something. It was maroon colored yarn being made into what seemed to look like a blanket.

Carter looked up quickly from the game and was curious to know what his little friend was doing.

"What are you making there, Louis?" Carter asked.

"Making a blanket for the Colonel," LeBeau said, smiling.

"Aw, I don't think you need to make him a blanket, Louis. He knows how happy we are he's back," Carter said smiling.

"He needs something to keep him warm at night. It gets very chilly down there."

Newkirk looked over and shook his head with a grin on his face.

"Louis, if I didn't know any better, I would say you're starting to become the Gov'nor's slave." The Englishman joked.

"I would take that job in a heartbeat, Pierre! I would do it with pride and honor," LeBeau said boldly.

Newkirk raised an eyebrow, yet he was still smiling somewhat.

"Alright, Louis; just don't wear yourself out." Newkirk warned.

" _Oui_ , Pierre."

Kinch walked in from outside and closed the door. He had just finished having a meeting with Klink. The Kommandant seemed to be growing very anxious with Hochstetter and Burkhalter around. The two men were making his nerves act up tremendously and was starting to make him very jumpy. In fact, Kinch was actually starting to feel sorry for the man. He wondered what Hogan would think, if he told him what was going on with Klink. He decided he would wait to tell him later and sat down at the table with Carter and Newkirk.

"Who's winning here, guys?" The sergeant asked.

"Andrew's won the last four games in a row. I'm determined to win this one." Newkirk growled. Not only did it make it difficult to play the game with one arm, but often times when picking up a new card, Newkirk would drop it, resulting in it falling on the table exposing what it read.

Kinch chuckled.

"It's alright, Newkirk. You'll win eventually."

"I hope that's bloody soon."

Kinch shook his head then turned to look at LeBeau.

"What are you doing, Louis? Making another blanket to send home?" He asked.

" _Non_. It's for the Colonel. I thought he might need it being in that drafty tunnel he's currently living in. Keep him warm at night." LeBeau answered.

Kinch was again having that strange feeling. LeBeau was acting funny. Sure, he did nice things for Hogan sometimes. They _all_ did. It was their way of showing how grateful and lucky they were to have such a wonderful commanding officer and friend in their lives. This was different, however. Something in LeBeau's eyes didn't seem quite right. Like some hidden emotion was trying to be locked away from everyone else to see.

"Louis, are you feeling alright?" He asked concerned.

"Of course, _mon ami_. Why would you ask such a thing?" LeBeau asked stunned.

"Well, you don't need to make the Colonel a blanket. We got plenty of them down in the tunnels."

"I can't make him a 'welcome back' present?"

"We gave him pats on the back, hugs, and a bunch of 'Welcome backs' last night," Carter said.

"I'll make the Colonel a blanket if I want! He deserves one after all he's been through the past six and a half months!"

LeBeau stormed over to the fake bunk, banged it, and once the opening was revealed, he climbed down the ladder to go see Hogan.

Kinch stood there for a minute, staring at where LeBeau had last been. After coming back to reality, he turned to look at Carter and Newkirk seriously.

"Have you two noticed anything different about Louis?" He asked.

"No, why?" Carter asked.

"Seems like the same little mate we've always seen him as, Kinch," Newkirk said, as he struggled to put a card down on the table. He had yet to find the easiest way to do so with one hand and not show his hand to Carter.

"He seems to be wanting to spend his time with no one else besides the Colonel...and I'm finding it a little odd," Kinch said, trying to think.

"Well, he's only been back for less than 24 hours, mate. I plan on spending some time with him tonight after evening roll call," Newkirk said, looking at his new hand. He sighed. No cards he found useful at the moment being.

"We _all_ wanna spend some time with Colonel Hogan by ourselves eventually. LeBeau, however...I don't know. Something just doesn't seem right to me," Kinch said.

Carter looked down at his watch.

"It's almost 3:00...you think Richard and Wilson finished examining the Colonel yet?" The young man asked.

"Only one way to find out," Kinch said smiling.

The three of them stood up and walked over to the tunnel entrance. Kinch going first, Carter following, and Newkirk last...again.

* * *

Hogan was lying flat on his back on the cot next to the radio table as Dr. Klaussner listened to his heart, breathing, and stomach. He finished and smiled. Wilson was smiling, too.

"Healthy as can be, Robert," Klaussner said.

Hogan smirked.

"Good; I'd go crazy if you put me on bed rest." He chuckled.

All three of them started laughing. Klaussner helped Hogan to sit up, when LeBeau entered in carrying the blanket he had finished for Hogan.

"How is he, Richard?" LeBeau asked.

Klaussner sighed, then crossed his arms.

"I would rather wait until all of you are here, Louis." He answered softly.

As if on cue, Kinch, Carter, and Newkirk entered into the room.

"How is he, Doc?" Newkirk asked.

"Is Colonel Hogan alright?" Carter worried.

Wilson and Klaussner looked at each other and smiled, then they turned to the four men of Hogan's and nodded.

"Colonel Hogan is both physically _and_ mentally healthy as can be," Wilson said proud.

"Even has a bit of weight gained from getting actual food in his mouth while in London." Klaussner added smiling.

"But you're sure he's alright mental wise," Kinch said, wanting confirming.

The old doctor chuckled.

"After several questioning methods, I can confirm with the psychiatric training I learned that Robert is cleared completely with good health."

Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau turned to one another and started cheering. Hogan stared at them briefly and started chuckling himself.

"Thanks, Richard. Joe," Kinch said nodding.

Both medics nodded back in recognition.

"Well, I should be headed back to the hospital. I've got a patient suffering from a bad case of bronchitis," Klaussner said, as he grabbed his black medical bag.

"Oooooof; not good, mate," Newkirk said, as he shook his head.

The doctor smirked.

"It's a Gestapo officer; don't worry."

The four of Hogan's men could not help but give a small laugh at the comment.

Klaussner waved 'goodbye' and soon was gone out of the tunnels.

"Well, I'll follow lead as well. I have to prepare for your appointment before dinner, Newkirk," Wilson said, grabbing his own medical bag.

"You know what, Joe, I'm feeling pretty good, today. I think I can just get rid of this here sling and get back to work," Newkirk said, forcing a smile.

Wilson glared at him and crossed his arms.

"Oh, really," He said smartly. He walked over to the English corporal and grabbed his right arm gently so not to cause more injury.

Newkirk yelped out in pain. He grabbed his arm with his left hand and started rubbing it tenderly.

"Uh huh; you're getting checked out, Newkirk." Wilson confirmed.

The Englishman gave the medic a glare.

Wilson walked over to Hogan, smiled at him and nodded, then left the tunnels to go back to the infirmary.

LeBeau turned to look at his commanding officer and smiled.

"Colonel, I made you this blanket. I thought you might need it down here at night, when it gets colder," The little Frenchman said, proud of his work.

Hogan took it willingly and gave a grin.

"Thanks, LeBeau; I'll use it tonight," He said sincerely.

LeBeau smiled, when he got a brilliant idea.

"I should make a matching pillow case!"

The little Frenchman made a run for the ladder that lead into the barracks. That left only Kinch, Carter, and Newkirk with Hogan. The three of them looked off at the direction LeBeau had gone puzzled. Carter and Newkirk were starting to see what Kinch was catching on to. LeBeau did seem to be a bit more concerned about Hogan than usual. They all cared about their commanding officer with their lives and did nice things for him on occasion to show him how much they all appreciated him, but the little man was overdoing it this time. Something was definitely up, but what was the question.

They all turned around, looking in Hogan's direction, and both Carter and Newkirk looked at Kinch.

"Kinch, I'm startin' to see what you mean," Newkirk said, giving a befuddled look.

"You think he's alright, Kinch?" Carter asked worried.

The radioman turned to look at Hogan.

"Sir, is it just us, or are you seeing something as well?" He asked.

"No, I'm seeing the same thing you guys are, too." Hogan started, as he leaned forward. His hands were in between his legs and clasped together, as he started to think to himself. "Something's up with LeBeau, and I can't quite put my finger on it."

"What is it, Sir?" Newkirk asked.

"Anything we can do to help?" Carter asked.

"Kinch, Newkirk, Carter...I want you three to do a little investigating. Find out what's gotten into LeBeau. Maybe the four of us can help him with whatever's going on," Hogan said.

"He may not be so willing to say what it is, Colonel." Carter answered.

"He didn't seem to budge much, when Kinch tried confronting him earlier." Newkirk added.

"We've gotta get LeBeau to talk. It's the only way he's gonna start feeling better again. I should know," Hogan said.

The three nodded. The man before them had only spent six months in a psychiatric hospital being taught that. They knew he was right and had to find a way to get LeBeau to talk before anything got better.

"Yes, Colonel." All of them replied.

Hogan nodded and looked up, when he realized his men were still standing there.

"Why are you guys still standing there?" He asked confused.

"Well, Sir...yah haven't exactly uh...dismissed us yet, is all," Newkirk said, rubbing his neck with his left hand.

The American officer sat there for a minute, then started laughing.

"I thought you guys were under Kinch's command, now," Hogan said.

"Well, you're back, Sir. Thought I'd hand over your command again," Kinch said beaming.

Hogan gave a soft smile. He was honored to have men like Kinch, Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk serving as his commanding team.

"You three are dismissed," he said, saluting his men.

Kinch, Newkirk, and Carter smiled, saluted back to Hogan, then they went up into the barracks to carry out their assignment.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:**

A couple days went by and within those two days, LeBeau had knitted Hogan a blanket, a matching pillowcase, made him gourmet meals, folded his laundry, made his bed, cleaned his living area, and was starting to knit the American officer a green sweater.

Kinch, Newkirk, and Carter were growing worried for their little friend and started asking him several questions on how he was doing and if there was anything that he wanted to talk to them about. He was resilient to all of these attempts.

LeBeau was making dinner, as he listened in on the conversation his friends were having with one another. Everyone else was either outside playing sports or in the mess hall eating the dinner there.

"I sure like having Colonel Hogan back. Sure, he's not up here and able to sleep in his quarters, but he's here. He's healthy and helping us again," Carter said smiling. He laid down a card on the table. He and Newkirk were playing yuker.

"Well, I vow from this moment on I'll help the Gov'nor with whatever's bothering him, no matter what. I don't care how far I push him, I won't allow him to have another mental breakdown again," Newkirk said strongly.

"We all will," Kinch said, smiling.

Newkirk was about to make his next move, when he looked up and saw that LeBeau looked strange. He seemed to be dazing off somewhere. As if he were remembering something.

"You alright there, Louis?" He asked, worried.

LeBeau did not answer.

"LeBeau." Kinch ordered.

The little Frenchman shook his head and came back to reality. He turned to look at his friends at the table. They were all looking at him with concern.

"Are you alright, LeBeau?" Kinch asked.

The little corporal nodded softly.

" _Oui, mon ami_." He grew silent for a brief moment, before he gulped and spoke again. "I think the Colonel's sweater needs work." The little Frenchman walked away from the dinner he was making and picked up his knitting. He sat down on Carter's bunk and began finishing a stitch.

The young sergeant looked at LeBeau.

"You sure you're alright, Louis? You look like you're stressed out about something," Carter said.

"I'm fine, André. I just want the Colonel's sweater finished before cold weather comes rolling in," LeBeau said, focused on starting a new row.

"Are you sure, LeBeau?" Kinch asked.

The French corporal put down his knitting abruptly and got to his feet.

"I need to see the Colonel. I think he needs a back massage," LeBeau said, completely ignoring Kinch's question. He walked over to the fake bunk and banged on it to reveal the tunnel entrance.

"Come on, Louis. Talk to us." Newkirk begged. He hated seeing his little mate suffering from something on his own.

LeBeau snapped his head to him, glaring at all of them.

"I said, 'The Colonel needs my help'!" He snarled. With that, he left his friends to sit there at the table and wonder, as they grew concerned for their friend.

"What do you think, Kinch?" Newkirk asked.

"All I know is that LeBeau's been acting like this since Colonel Hogan came home from London four days ago." The radioman answered.

"You think it has something to do with the Colonel, Kinch?" Carter asked.

"I _know_ it has something to do with the Colonel," Kinch said, positive on his assumption.

"What's Louis gotta problem with the Gov'nor for? He's back and healthy again." Newkirk asked.

"I don't know; but whatever it is, it's eating Louis up from the inside out."

"I wonder what it is. I hate seeing Louis go through this," Carter said, feeling remorse.

"We _all_ do, Andrew, but unless he opens up to us, there's nothing we can do about it," Newkirk said sadly.

The young man gave a grim look and sighed.

"I guess, Newkirk," he said.

"Maybe the Colonel can talk some sense into him," Kinch said.

"I hope you're right, mate...I sure hope you're right." Newkirk answered.

* * *

Hogan was lying on his bed in the tunnel reading a book. He looked up quickly at his surroundings, then went back to reading. He then noticed something and looked up. He saw LeBeau enter into his temporary quarters with an unusual look on his face. He could not describe it, but his little Frenchman looked bothered by something. Something that just would not leave him alone, and it was driving him crazy.

"LeBeau," Hogan said. "You okay?"

" _Oui, Colonel_. Just fine. I was just wondering if you needed a massage, is all," LeBeau said, forcing a smile.

Hogan raised an eyebrow.

"A massage," He flatly said.

" _Oui_ , Sir. You're probably still jet lagged from the long flight, Colonel. I wanted to make sure you were relaxed and felt comfy." LeBeau answered, as if nothing were bothering him.

Hogan, knowing better, put down his book and got to his feet. He crossed his arms and looked seriously at the little man.

"Alright, LeBeau; I wanna know what's going on with you," Hogan said, ordering more like it.

"Nothing, Colonel. I'm as fine as can be," LeBeau said. Something on his face read 'he's catching onto me'.

"You say you are, but feeling it is what I'm concerned about."

"I feel fine, Colonel. Nothing wrong here."

Hogan was now growing a bit angry. He knew the man was lying to him about something. He was going to get LeBeau to crack and tell him what was bothering him even if it killed him.

"LeBeau, I'm gonna ask you one more time, and next time it won't be so friendly: what's...going...on?" Hogan ordered.

The Frenchman went silent. He refused to speak. If anyone knew what was bothering him, they would start worrying he was going mad, too. He was not crazy, and he was going to prove that he was not going insane. Even though his guilt was slowly consuming him.

"Answer my question, Corporal!" Hogan snarled.

"...I can't tell you, Colonel," LeBeau said softly.

"What do you mean 'you can't tell me'?"

"I can't tell you, Colonel. You'll think I've gone crazy."

"And I'm terrified _of_ you going crazy, if you don't tell me what's going on with you."

LeBeau was starting to panic on the inside. It was becoming harder to stay quiet. He wanted to tell Hogan, Kinch, Carter, and Newkirk. He wanted them to know as much as he wanted to tell them, but he just could not. They had too much to worry about right now with getting rid of Hochstetter and getting Hogan back into camp. He would not add to their stress with his own personal dilemma.

"No...I won't worry you with my own problem. You, Kinch, Pierre, and André have too much to think about already," he said. He could feel the knot forming in his throat and getting rid of it was almost impossible now. He knew he would soon break.

"LeBeau, we all wanna help you. You're not being a burden to us, if that's what you're afraid of. I didn't talk to you guys and went mad. I almost lost all of you as result. I'm not gonna let that same mistake happen to you. Come on, talk to me. I won't judge you, I promise," Hogan said sincerely.

LeBeau let out an uneasy breath. He could not hold back any more.

"It's all my fault, Colonel!" He wailed. He hung his head in shame.

Hogan looked at him shocked and confused.

"What's your fault, LeBeau?" He asked worried.

"I did it; I'm sorry, Colonel!"

"LeBeau, what did you do?"

The little Frenchman swallowed and tears started streaming down his face.

"I made you sick, Colonel; I'm sorry!" He whimpered.

"You made me sick!" Hogan exclaimed.

" _Oui_...I made you sick, Colonel."

"How?"

LeBeau shuddered, as he went back in his mind and remembered.

"The night Claude died, Colonel," he said, starting to weep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21:**

Hogan was confused and shocked by what LeBeau had just said. He looked at his friend in pain. He was hurt to see LeBeau suffering from such intense grief and guilt. He wanted to help him, but first he needed to know more on what the little man was saying.

"LeBeau...what about the night Claude died? What happened that night that's making you feel like this?" Hogan asked.

LeBeau did not want to answer. It made him sick to his stomach every time he thought about it. The things that night brought to all of them. The sadness, the grief, what happened that went all wrong, the things that were said. He sighed shaky and continued.

"We got back here to the tunnels, Colonel...after the explosion gone wrong." LeBeau started.

Hogan sat down on his desk chair and gave the Frenchman his full and undivided attention.

"I'm listening. Go on," He said kindly.

"We were...talking about what happened...the people that died in result."

"I know," Hogan said, sighing heavily. His heart still pained him whenever he remembered the explosion that night.

They had been ordered to blow up a bridge, which seemed fairly easy. They had done quite a few of these missions before and knew very well how to execute them. An underground member named Claude was assigned to help the team complete the mission. When they got there, a German guard was on the bridge making sure there were no invasions or people sneaking out at night. After Carter set up the explosives, Claude had noticed a woman, who turned out to be the guard's wife and expecting their first child, was walking towards him with what apparently was his dinner. Claude made a run to try and help the two of them, but it was too late when the bridge exploded into an oblivion, killing all alive. It had left the American officer devastated and full of guilt and pain that he had been responsible for the lives that were killed that night. It had been the other factor that had caused Hogan to go mad and be sent to London in the first place. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Dr. Andrews had told him to remember every time that night came to mind, for him to remember that it was nothing more than a horrible accident and think of all the missions that had been successfully done due to his work. The missions that would have never been possible to execute had it not been for him. "Go on, LeBeau."

As much as the French corporal did not want to, he did.

"Colonel...it's when we started arguing that it happened."

Hogan nodded, indicating he was still listening.

"What happened when we were arguing, LeBeau?" He asked softly.

The little Frenchman went silent for a moment. He clenched his eyes shut to not let anymore tears fall down his face, but it was ineffective. He sniffled and opened his eyes. He started weeping again softly.

Hogan looked at him with kind eyes.

"LeBeau, it's alright. Everything's alright. I'm fine, I'm healthy again. Everyone's alright." He reassured his little friend. "You can tell me what happened."

LeBeau wept for a few seconds before answering.

"I don't deserve a commanding officer as nice as you, Colonel." He bawled.

Hogan gave a friendly smile.

"I couldn't ask for a better man to have under my command. I wouldn't trade you for anybody in the world," The American said kindly.

LeBeau sniffled, nodded, then went back to what he was saying.

"Colonel...I...called you a murderer," he said, breaking down.

Hogan's mouth dropped slightly, as he now realized what LeBeau was talking about. The poor man felt that for his behavior due to grief and the names he had called him had been the reason that lead to his sickness.

"So _that's_ why you're acting like my servant," the colonel said, having an epiphany.

LeBeau nodded, wiping a few tears away.

" _Oui, Colonel_." He whimpered.

Hogan smiled, got to his feet, and walked over to LeBeau. He put a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked at him kindly.

"LeBeau, now listen to me. You did not cause me to become sick. Not you, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, not anybody. Not even Hochstetter." The American began.

"But I called you a murderer, Colonel!"

"And I know you were hurting and grieving when you said those names to me. Sure, they hurt; I'm not denying that, but they didn't cause me to go mad, LeBeau. You did not make me sick. It was my own fault. I should have told you guys how I was feeling the moment I realized what was going on."

"But...Colonel," Hogan cut him off.

"I know you feel that way. I know that you're hurting and feeling incredible guilt right now. Believe me; I've been there before. I learned something in London, though."

"What was that?"

"I learned that we all make mistakes. We'll all have those times where we feel incredibly sad or angry for whatever reason, and we'll torture ourselves with guilt, sadness, and remorse trying to find someone to blame for what happened. We have to realize that it was no one's fault for what happened in those tragedies and losses. We have to remember, though, that it wasn't our faults and remember all the good things we've done in life. Stuff that would not have been possible without us. I could have never cooked such meals for Klink and Burkhalter whenever we have to deal with them involving an assignment."

LeBeau gave a small smile.

"You think so, Colonel?" He asked softly.

"I _know_ so." Hogan smiled, then patted his shoulder. "You're alright, LeBeau. You're the best little Frenchman I could ever know."

LeBeau smiled, then hugged Hogan.

"Thank you, Colonel. I feel better now," he said.

"Good," Hogan said with a warm smile.

They stood there in silence for a moment, before LeBeau spoke.

"Can I still finish your sweater, _mon Colonel_? It would be a waste of yarn at this rate."

The colonel chuckled.

"Sure, LeBeau; you can finish my sweater. It'll do some good, when winter comes around again."

The little man smiled and nodded, when Kinch, Newkirk, and Carter came in.

"How is he, Colonel?" Kinch asked concerned.

"Don't worry. LeBeau's gonna be just fine. We had a nice long chat." Hogan answered, putting his hand back on the Frenchman's shoulder.

"What was it, Colonel...if you don't mind me asking, that is," Carter said.

"That will be something that will stay between just LeBeau and I." Hogan answered.

LeBeau smiled, knowing his commanding officer would keep what had been exchanged privately. One of the many things he loved about the man: he always knew he could trust him.

"Well, we're just glad things got straightened out, is all," Kinch said.

Hogan nodded and turned to Newkirk.

"How's your arm there, Newkirk?" He asked curiously.

"Bloody marvelous," The Englishman grumbled.

"On the bright side, Wilson says you only have to wear that sling for one more week, and you can start moving your arm again."

"That doesn't change the fact I gotta still wear this ruddy cast for another two, Gov'nor."

"Oh, two weeks isn't so bad."

"Hey, look at it this way, Newkirk. After three more weeks, we can start practicing for the championship volleyball game," Carter said smiling.

Newkirk smirked.

"Yeah...let's just hope I haven't forgot how to serve, mate."

The five of them were laughing for a minute, before LeBeau realized they still had stuff to do before they could go back to living their lives the way it had been before.

"Wait a minute, guys. We still have Major Hochstetter to deal with. We have to convince him the Colonel's dead."

Carter, Kinch, and Newkirk moaned. They had hoped that would not be a problem by now.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Louis," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"I wish we could just skip the whole thing and start trying to think of a way to get the Gov'nor back into camp." Newkirk groaned.

Something clicked in the radioman's mind, just then. The light bulb had turned on, and it was all thanks to the English corporal.

"Newkirk! You're a genius!" Kinch cried.

"What did I do, mate?" He asked, confused.

"That's how we'll get the Colonel back into camp!"

"You lost me, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said, trying to catch onto the dark sergeant.

"Me too," Hogan said, wrapping his arms around himself.

"We're gonna get rid of Hochstetter," Kinch said.

LeBeau's face brightened up, and he started getting jumpy and full of excitement. They were going to use his plan for once in his life.

"Kinch, I got the _perfect_ thing to do so! André, I'll need one of your bombs!" LeBeau cried, with glee.

Kinch and Hogan glared at the Frenchman.

"Not _that_ way, LeBeau." Hogan warned.

LeBeau sighed and hung his head.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted." He mumbled.

"What's the idea, Kinch?" Newkirk asked.

"Colonel, how many underground members do you think would be necessary to dress up as Gestapo officers and come into camp to bring someone in?" Kinch asked.

"Depends on the person. Why?" Hogan asked.

"We're gonna have them drive you back into camp and explain that you were treated by a doctor for the last six months who found you and diagnosed you from suffering from a severe illness that was making you have all the hallucinations and delusions you were suffering from."

"Mate, it's brilliant!" Newkirk cried.

"I should've thought of it _myself_!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Oh boy, that's a good idea right there, Kinch!" Carter cheered.

The dark sergeant smiled and turned to Hogan.

"What do you think, Colonel?" He asked.

Hogan nodded.

"It's a good idea, Kinch...but I'm going to need Wilson's help with it."

"What for, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"I'm gonna make myself sick." Hogan replied.

"WHAT?!" The four of them cried.

"Don't worry; I'll stop, when Wilson tells me it's enough," Hogan said, holding up a hand.

"But Colonel, why?" Carter asked.

"If Hochstetter calls in for a doctor to examine me, he'll be able to tell that I did not suffer from any recent ailment that was physical. I'm gonna have Wilson monitor me, while I make myself dehydrated. We can have the guys we get as Gestapo officers and a doctor to say I had suffered from severe dehydration that caused me to see and believe things that weren't real." Hogan answered.

"Colonel, I can't lose you again! I'll go crazy!" LeBeau begged.

"I'm with Louis on this one, Gov'nor. I can't risk losing you forever this time." Newkirk added.

"I'm going to be fine, guys. I promise." Hogan reassured them.

The four saw something in their commanding officer's eyes. He was telling the truth and knew that he would be alright with doing it. They all sighed and nodded.

"Alright, Colonel...we'll let you go through with it," Kinch said sadly.

Hogan nodded.

"Kinch, get on the radio with Barbara. Tell her to recruit four guys Klink, Burkhalter, and Hochstetter have never met before. Three of them will be Gestapo and the other will be an old German doctor." The colonel ordered.

The sergeant smiled.

"Yes, Colonel," he said, with a slight hint of excitement, and hurried to the radio room.

The American officer turned to Newkirk and LeBeau smiling.

"Newkirk, LeBeau, I need three Gestapo uniforms ready. Make one a major and two captains," Hogan said, grinning.

"Yes, Sir," Newkirk said.

"I will do it with honor, Colonel," LeBeau said, standing straight.

The two of them hurried off to the sewing room, when LeBeau turned off in the direction the radio room was in.

"Hey, Kinch; tell Barbara I say 'hello'," he said, eager with excitement.

Newkirk grabbed LeBeau by his shirt collar with his good hand and dragged him off to where they needed to be.

With everyone now gone, it left Carter and Hogan alone in the colonel's temporary room.

"There's nowhere for _me_ to help in this mission, I guess," the young man said sadly. He wanted to help get Hogan back into camp as much as the rest of them did.

The American officer smiled and patted his back.

"Oh, don't worry; I got a special job for you, Carter," Hogan said, with a mischievous grin.

Carter looked up at Hogan and smiled. He began telling the young sergeant what his assignment would be.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22:**

After about five days without food or water, with Wilson monitoring carefully, Hogan became deathly ill with the lack of water in his body. His blood pressure was severely low, he was pale as paper, his skin was dry and clammy, had clouded over eyes, black circles around his eyes, had lost weight significantly, constant fainting spells, and had painful stomach cramps that came either every fifteen minutes or every other hour. Sometimes they came sooner or later.

Kinch had got four men from the underground to pose as three Gestapo officers and an old German doctor. LeBeau had taken a car from the motor pool and hid it in the forest for the four men to use.

Newkirk's arm was now out of the sling, but he had to wear a smaller cast for the remaining two weeks. The Englishman was glad to have some mobility of his arm again.

Hogan's men were helping the underground men get straightened out before they went out and started their plan that Newkirk, Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau were hoping would work out, so Hogan could come home again.

"Here are your identification papers and your orders from Colonel Björn Bach," Newkirk said, handing it to David, who would play the part as the major that would take Hogan back into camp. David had piercing blue eyes and thick brown hair that was wavy. He also had a bit of a beard shadow.

The underground agent nodded.

"Got it, Newkirk. How's your arm doing?" The young man asked.

The Englishman sighed.

"Sore, but getting better quickly hopefully."

"Kinch made it sound like you took a pretty nasty fall."

"It wasn't a pretty fall, but I'll make do."

David nodded.

Newkirk gave a smile and patted the man on the shoulder.

"You're gonna do alright, mate. I'm confident you can get the Gov'nor back in here."

David chuckled slightly.

"You don't think I'll scare Klink too bad?"

The Englishman laughed.

"I'll be surprised if the old man doesn't have a heart attack."

Both men laughed and continued discussing plans. Meanwhile, Carter in his Gestapo uniform and with his hair colored black, walked into Hogan's room with Kinch. They both felt horrible and terrified at what they saw. Wilson was standing by Hogan's bedside, as he examined the American officer's health. Hogan was staring at the ceiling and looked like he was holding back from crying.

"How's he doing, Joe?" Kinch asked concerned. He took one of Hogan's weak hands in his.

Wilson sighed and shook his head.

"This plan better work, Kinch. I can't put off treating him any further. His condition's on the verge of becoming critical." He reported.

Carter gently sat down on the bed next to Hogan's legs.

"You're gonna be alright, Colonel. You'll be back in camp really soon, boy. I mean 'Sir'," the young sergeant said, trying to encourage Hogan to hang in there for a little longer.

The colonel turned his head to Carter and gave a smile that looked like was painful for him to make. It looked like he was trying to get something to come out of his throat, when the young man hushed him.

"You just rest, Colonel. We can handle everything. Just hold on for a little longer, buddy." Carter pleaded.

Kinch looked at Wilson, worry filled in his eyes.

The camp medic gave a small smile.

"Don't worry, Kinch. I'll make sure he's alright," Wilson said sincerely.

The radioman smiled.

"I know you will, Joe," he said.

Kinch and Carter gave Hogan a gentle pat on the shoulder, then they left the tunnel and met back in the radio room with Newkirk, LeBeau, David, and the other two men: Aaron and Dietrich, the captains. All three underground men were in their uniforms and ready to go.

"Looks like everyone's ready to go...but where's Johannes?" Kinch asked. Johannes was the man that would play the old doctor.

As if right on cue, a short man, about LeBeau's size, came out into the clearing. He was wearing a lab coat, had a stethoscope and medical bag, and had glasses on. He had grayish black hair that was beginning to recede and a mustache.

"How do I look?" He asked with a remarkable German accent.

Newkirk turned to face Johannes and whistled.

"Dashing, mate," he said sincerely.

Kinch nodded in approval. He turned to look at Carter, who had finished putting on the rest of his disguise. He had a black mustache on his face and went to his post: the phone area to tap into phone calls. He would be expecting his call from Hochstetter, Burkhalter, or Klink at any time. After he was gone, Kinch gathered the four men around him, along with Newkirk and LeBeau.

"Okay; the car's out a few meters from the fake tree stump. Two of you are going to have to help get Colonel Hogan into the car. He's pretty ill," the dark sergeant said, growing uneasy.

"He'll be alright though, right?" Aaron asked. He was slim and had light brown hair and brown eyes. He was as tall as Newkirk and the other man, Dietrich.

"He'll be fine...I hope." Kinch replied.

"Alright, mates; let's get this show rolling." Newkirk answered. He climbed up the ladder to the barracks with LeBeau following from behind.

"You guys know what to do. Wilson will help you get the Colonel into the car," Kinch said, confident in the men that had been selected for this assignment.

"Got it, Kinch." David spoke strong.

"Good luck," the sergeant said, shaking each man's hand. Soon afterwards, he followed LeBeau and Newkirk up into the barracks and closed the tunnel entrance. Their plan to getting Hogan back into camp and getting rid of Hochstetter had begun.

* * *

Klink was pacing his office like mad, as Hochstetter and Burkhalter were talking more about the three guards that went missing the night Hogan was en route to Hadamar.

"I'm convinced the guards were undercover men from the underground, General," Hochstetter said, after stating all the evidence he had gathered from what had happened in the last couple weeks.

"Yes, but what evidence besides Klink not having a death certificate and no dead body do you have, Major?" Burkhalter asked, amusing himself.

"These men have not been heard from nor seen in the past six and a half months, _Herr General_. Enough evidence for you?!" The major sneered.

The door opened, and Schultz walked in.

"Schultz! What are you doing here?!" Klink ordered.

" _Herr Kommandant_ , there are visitors here for you," the big guard said. He seemed slightly uneasy for some reason.

"Tell them to get out! I don't have time for them!" The kommandant snapped, waving his hand.

The door slammed open all the way and barging in past Schultz was David, Aaron, and Dietrich in Gestapo uniforms. David looked furious and the other two remained quiet unless spoken to. They, too, had looks of disgust on their faces.

"You will make time for _me_ , Klink!" David snapped.

"Schultz! Why didn't you tell me it was Gestapo men?! I always have time for them," Klink said, ending with a chuckle that had fear all over it.

The underground agent looked at the man like he was an imbecile. David's opinion was the same acting as a Gestapo major or not. Same went for Aaron and Dietrich. Schultz nodded and closed the door to leave the six men be to themselves.

"How can I help you uh...uh…" Klink was cut off by David.

"I'm Major Gerhard Achilles of Dusseldorf Gestapo Headquarters. These are Captains Dittmar and Kappel."

"Major Achilles! And might I say 'Welcome to Stalag 13'?" The kommandant asked, smiling childishly.

"No! You may not!" David spat.

"Yes, Major. Cigar?" Klink asked, shaking. He held out the little box that sat on his desk open and out for the major to see.

David snapped his head at Klink. He looked harshly into the colonel's eyes.

"I don't smoke, Kommandant Klink!" He snarled.

"Of course not, Major. You have a reputation to hold, after all," the kommandant said, laughing.

"STOP LAUGHING!" David bellowed.

"Yes, Major Achilles." Klink quivered.

"I am here because of one of your prisoners."

" _Prisoners_. What reason do you have to see any of my prisoners?" Klink asked worried. What was going on here, he wondered.

"Why don't you three men join us outside, and I'll show you why!" David growled.

"Major, now just wait a minute!" Hochstetter hissed, stepping in now.

David turned to Hochstetter and chuckled, as if the Gestapo officer amused him.

"Ah, Major Wolfgang Hochstetter. I have heard many things about you...too bad I pity weaklings like yourself." The underground agent snarled.

"Now you watch yourself, Major! You're crossing the line! We are both of the same ranking, if you haven't noticed!"

"According to my research on you, I outrank you by several years in service before you became a major, Major!"

"I would like to see your orders to be here, Major!"

David took the orders Newkirk had given him out of his jacket pocket and handed them to Hochstetter to look over. The Gestapo officer read over them and gasped when he read the signature.

"A colonel," Hochstetter said softly.

" _Ja_...a colonel, Hochstetter. A position you will never fulfill." David snarled.

"Klink, I want you to call this 'Colonel Bach' immediately," Hochstetter ordered, glaring at David. This man irked him, yet at the same time terrified him as well.

"Yes, Major Hochstetter." Klink sat down at his desk, grabbed his phone, and began talking. "Get me Colonel Bach, Gestapo Headquarters in Dusseldorf. Priority call."

Burkhalter had grown especially quiet during all of this. He was interested in seeing where this all went.

Klink had gotten hold of 'Colonel Bach' and began talking to the 'colonel' over the phone.

"Ah, Colonel Bach. This is Colonel Klink, Colonel. _Heil Hitler_...Colonel, I have a Major Achilles here. Did you send him here, Sir...no, I would never question the Gestapo, especially you, Colonel...hello...hello...Colonel Bach?" After no response for a minute, the kommandant slowly hung up the phone and gulped. "He hung up."

"You shouldn't have done that, Colonel Klink," David said, smug. He crossed his arms and smiled wickedly at the quivering old man before him.

"Why shouldn't he have, Major?" Burkhalter questioned, suspicious.

"Now he's on his way here to handle things further on himself." David replied, more friendly to Burkhalter. He had to respect the man's high ranking and found him the most logical and sensible man out of all of them.

"There's no need for Colonel Bach to come all the way out here, Major. We can handle this matter ourselves," Klink said, smiling idiotically.

"I said he's coming, Klink!" David snapped.

"Yes, Sir." The kommandant trembled.

"Uh, just a question, Major...who is this prisoner of Klink's you are here on behalf of?" Hochstetter asked, incredulous of the three Gestapo officers in front of him. He crossed his arms and glared at him.

"I will show you, Major. And don't question my authority, Hochstetter! I have enough authority over you I can have you transferred...possibly to another unit in Minsk!" David snarled.

Hochstetter froze up, but quickly shook it off. He would not show this man that he intimidated him.

The six men walked out of the office after grabbing their caps and jackets and walked down the steps of the Kommandantur's. They saw an old German doctor pacing outside of the car. When he spotted David, he hurried over to him.

"Vat took you zo long, Major?" Johannes asked urgently.

"Who is this?" Burkhalter questioned.

"I am Dr. Hans von Hafner, General." Johannes answered.

"We had a hold up." David sneered, turning to Hochstetter and glaring at him coldly. The short Gestapo major tried to look as fearless as he could, but it was hard under those blue eyes of David's. They made his bones shiver and rattle inside him.

"Vell, ve must hurry! Zee patient is getting vorse! Colonel Bach vill have our throats if he dies!" Johannes exclaimed.

" _Patient_! I thought you said you were here on behalf of one of the prisoners!" Klink cried shocked.

"We are, Colonel." David growled.

He grabbed the car door in the back and opened it for Klink, Burkhalter, and Hochstetter to look in and see. The three German officers all gasped at what they saw.

"It...it can't be!" Klink gasped.

" _Mein Gott_! It's not possible!" Burkhalter cried.

"I knew it!" Hochstetter hollered.

Sitting there in the back was a very ill Colonel Hogan not making direct eye contact with anyone.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** One more chapter after this one! Can't believe this story is already coming to an end! It seems like yesterday I posted chapter 1! Well, here's chapter 23 and the last one will appear tomorrow! Hope you enjoy this next installment of 'Coming Into the Light'!

* * *

 **Chapter 23:**

"Hogan! Is it really you?!" Klink cried. He was praying to God it was.

The American would not reply. He continued to stare straight ahead of him.

"Hogan, you will answer Kommandant Klink this instant!" Hochstetter ordered.

The ailing colonel turned his head extremely slowly to look at the three German officers. They saw how sick he was. Klink wanted to faint. He felt horrible to see Hogan so ill. What had happened to him since he last saw him? He looked ten times worse than when he had been sent to Hadamar the night he supposedly 'died'.

"Klink," Hogan said, just barely and wheezy. It was too much effort for him just to say one word.

The kommandant snapped his head to Schultz, who had seen what happened keeping guard of the Kommandantur's.

"Schultz, get to the infirmary immediately! I want Sergeant Wilson out here at once!" Klink ordered harshly.

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_ ," Schultz said strongly. He started running and when nobody was looking, he smiled. Hogan was still alive, and he was determined to keep him alive. He ran as fast as he could to the infirmary.

"Klink, I want this man arrested and shot!" Hochstetter barked.

"I believe Colonel Bach's orders were to return Colonel Hogan to Kommandant Wilhelm Klink and continue to hold him as a prisoner of war," David said slyly.

" _Prisoner of war_?! Does your stupid colonel realize who this man is?!" The short major hollered.

Aaron and Dietrich pulled out their guns and pointed them at Hochstetter's head. They were glaring at him with a death sentence for him written in their eyes.

"You wish to go any further with your accusation, _Major_?" Aaron hissed.

Hochstetter swallowed a knot in his throat. He shook his head and started to slightly shake.

"No, no, Captain Kappel. That won't be necessary. I'm sure Colonel Bach is a wonderful commanding officer," he said, forcing a smile.

David turned to look behind his shoulder to Aaron and Dietrich. He signaled with his head that they could put away their weapons away. They heard Hochstetter sigh with relief, which amused them greatly.

"I thought so, Major," David said, smug.

Klink knelt down, so he could get a better look at Hogan. He knelt beside Johannes or 'Dr. von Hafner'.

"Hogan, can you hear me, Hogan?" The German colonel pleaded. He needed an answer, or he would go crazy.

After thirty seconds of nothing, Hogan started hyperventilating silently. He clenched his eyes together as if he were in treacherous pain and grabbed his middle with his right hand.

"What's wrong with him?!" Klink wailed.

Johannes took his stethoscope and listened to Hogan's belly. He shook his head and turned back to the kommandant.

"He's zuffering from zevere stomach cramps. He must zee medical attention in a facility at once, or he vill die!" Johannes proclaimed.

Klink swallowed hard. He refused to lose Hogan again. He would not allow it.

"What is it, Dr. von Hafner? What's he suffering from? Measles? Influenza? Pneumonia?... _typhus_?" He dreaded.

"Zevere dehydration; vhen he vas brought to me, he vas zuffering from zee zymptoms of zerious delirium and hallucinations." Johannes answered.

"Severe dehydration!"

"Klink, vas Hogan eating or drinking zee last few days he vas here before being transferred?"

"No...no, he was not."

"Severe dehydration does not last over six months!" Hochstetter hissed.

"I told you zis man needs zerious medical attention. I could not give him that, as I am not trained to do zuch medical procedures. A person can zuffer from zeveral relapses of dehydration in zuch a critical condition as Colonel Hogan's. I've given him pills, IVs', but they vear off the illness for so long. I contacted zee Gestapo as soon as I realized that he vill not get better unless I can get him zomevhere vith a medical unit." Johannes answered.

"You said he was brought to you, Doctor. By whom were these people?" Burkhalter questioned.

"I don't know who zey vere. Zey did not identify themselves. I presume zey vere vith the underground. Zey said that zey had taken three guards as captives and forced zem to call Kommandant Klink and report he had been shot and killed trying to attack a guard zo he could get proper care for his illness." Johannes answered.

"The underground!" Klink gasped.

"Helping their commanding officer, maybe?" Hochstetter hissed.

"Aiding fellow Allies, Major," Burkhalter said, turning to the worked up Gestapo officer.

Wilson ran over to the car with a stretcher ready on standby. He knelt down besides Klink and turned to Johannes after the shock of seeing who the patient was wore off.

"How is he, Doctor?" Wilson asked, slightly shaky.

"Not good; he's zuffering from zevere stomach cramps." Johannes answered sadly.

"Wilson," Hogan said in the same voice. He was still breathing rapid.

"You're gonna be alright, Colonel. I promise," the camp medic said kindly.

The American officer turned back to face the front and continued hyperventilating.

Wilson grabbed a sedative out of his medical bag and injected Hogan with it. Soon enough, the colonel had fallen asleep. As the camp medic and Johannes, with Klink holding the stretcher, were moving Hogan onto it, another car pulled into the compound. Gestapo flags flapped in the breeze. All of them knew who had made their way into camp.

"Colonel Bach!" Klink gasped.

"How did he get here so fast?" Burkhalter questioned.

A door opened and slammed closed, as Carter made his way to the scene.

"What's going on here," He ordered.

"Colonel Bach, Colonel Hogan is zick and needs immediate medical attention, or he'll die." Johannes reported.

"Colonel, this man is a criminal and a threat to the Third Reich! He's associated with the underground and possibly responsible for the disappearance of three Luftwaffe guards!" Hochstetter claimed. He would not lose this fight.

"Major, the three men you refer to are dead!" Carter barked.

"How, Colonel Bach?" Burkhalter asked curious.

"Shot to death. I assume the same men that took Colonel Hogan to Dr. von Hafner here were the ones behind it." Carter replied.

"Where are their bodies now, Colonel Bach?" Hochstetter growled.

"Buried in a field somewhere back in Dusseldorf! I order Colonel Hogan regain his place in Stalag 13 where he's locked up and secured. I've heard this is the toughest POW camp in all of Germany! Now, call off this preposterous investigation, or I will have General Burkhalter report its entirety to _Reichsfuhrer Himmler_! You make the Gestapo look, like, a fool! " Carter hollered, as he whacked his swagger stick in the air, making Hochstetter jump.

"I know this man is guilty!"

"DON'T QUESTION MY AUTHORITY, MAJOR!"

The Gestapo officer shuddered. He had never been so terrified of someone in his entire life before.

"I will do so immediately, Colonel." Hochstetter replied, giving in.

" _Gut_ ; men, we are off," Carter ordered.

The young sergeant got into his car and drove out of camp. David, Aaron, Dietrich, and Johannes jumped into the other car and followed Carter out.

"BAH!" Hochstetter yelled, as he shook his fist in the air. He got into his car, slammed the door shut, and drove out of Stalag 13, furious that once again Hogan had foiled his plans to prove his activity with the underground.

"I will be leaving as well, Klink. There is no need for me to be here any longer," Burkhalter said, walking to his car.

The kommandant nodded and saluted 'goodbye' to Burkhalter. Soon enough, the general had left camp, too.

With Hogan now on the stretcher, Klink and Wilson hurried the man to the infirmary.

 _Hold on, Hogan_ , Klink thought to himself.

* * *

Hours had passed, and Klink had reported everything regarding what had happened earlier to Hogan's four men first, then the rest of the camp during evening roll call. After dinner, Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter came into the infirmary to see how Hogan was doing. They walked in carrying a bouquet of flowers 'given' to them from Klink's garden and a 'Get Well' card signed by all of them. They saw Wilson sitting at his desk. The camp medic looked up and smirked.

"I was expecting you guys to come sooner or later. I believe you have someone that would like to see you. He's been asking for you guys since waking up a couple hours ago," Wilson said.

The four men hurried behind Wilson and made their way to an occupied cot. Hogan's color had returned a little bit and was wearing a blue hospital gown. An IV was being given to him, and he was asleep.

"He'll be just fine. I'll get him back to how he was when he first came home from London. Plenty of food, water, and lots of rest will make him all better again," the camp medic said.

"Colonel...you awake, Sir?" Kinch asked softly.

Hogan fluttered his eyes slowly open and turned his head slightly to his right to see all four of his men were standing there with him. He smiled weakly.

"I'll leave you five be," Wilson said, smiling. He walked over back to his desk. The four men sat down beside Hogan smiling. Newkirk sat by Hogan's legs, Kinch stood behind Newkirk, Carter sat in a chair next to the colonel's bed, and LeBeau stood behind Carter with his hands on his shoulders.

"Welcome back, Colonel. We missed yah," Newkirk said softly.

Hogan smiled and gently nodded. He was too tired to talk. There was a twinkle in his eyes, though, as he looked at his men. It was as if he was trying to tell them something.

Kinch smiled, knowing what Hogan was trying to say.

"Don't worry, Colonel. We all know how proud you are of us," The radio man said.

Letting out a relaxed breath, Hogan gave a weak smile as it was starting to fade. His eyes were starting to fall, as sleep was beginning to overpower him.

"You can go to sleep, Colonel. We'll be alright until you come back to the barracks," Carter said smiling.

"We'll put together your quarters, clean the barracks, and I'll prepare you the finest meal possible, Colonel," LeBeau said, beaming.

Hogan nodded barely and soon enough had fallen asleep.

All four men smiled at their commanding officer, knowing he was home again.

"Welcome home, Colonel Hogan," Kinch said softly.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Well, this is it! The final chapter to "Coming Into the Light"! It's been a real joy to read all of your reviews and constructive criticism! I really appreciate your feedback and am glad so many of you have enjoyed reading it! As I said before, here's the final chapter of my first story back to the HH world! Hope y'all like it! :D

* * *

 **Chapter 24:**

It was the middle of August now. Newkirk's arm had made a full recovery and so had Hogan from his severe dehydration. Wilson had even made sure to get Hogan's extra weight he had before back, as if he never got sick in the first place. Everyone in camp celebrated the colonel's return by all of them lining up in the camp and giving him the best salute they ever could and a 'welcome back' ceremony. He was slightly embarrassed, but he was touched by how much his men looked up to and respected him. He was glad to be back as much as the men were glad to have him back.

Hogan was walking around one morning and looking at all the prisoners and the activities they were doing and smiled. He was about to head over back to where LeBeau, Carter, Kinch, and Newkirk were socializing, when Schultz approached the American officer.

"Colonel Hogan," he called.

Hogan turned around and smiled at the big guard.

"Schultz, what do you need?" He asked in a friendly way.

"The Kommandant wishes to see you right away," the big guard answered.

"About what?"

" _That_ , I do not know."

Hogan looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous grin on his face.

"Are you sure, Schultz?"

"Oh, Colonel Hogan, _please_! I know nothing, _nothhhh-ing_!"

Hogan pulled out a chocolate bar from his jacket and held it up in front of him.

Schultz licked his lips and took the bar gently from the American's hand.

"He wishes to discuss camp matters with you." Schultz answered, as he began to unwrap the delicious looking candy.

"Thank you, Schultz," Hogan said, smiling. He started walking off towards Klink's office, when Schultz called for him again. Hogan turned around to face him. "Yes, Schultz?"

The big guard smiled at him.

"Welcome back, Colonel Hogan," Schultz said friendly.

Hogan gave a warm smile back.

"Thanks, Schultz. I'm glad to be back, too."

With that, Hogan turned around on his shoe and made his way up the steps of the Kommandantur's. When he walked in, he was greeted by Hilda with a friendly smile and twinkling eyes. He smiled and walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and the two of them gently kissed one another.

"I missed you, Colonel Hogan," Hilda said softly.

"I could say the same for you as well." Hogan replied in the same tone.

"The Kommandant would like to see you."

"So I've heard from Schultz."

Hilda blushed and leaned her head gently on Hogan's shoulder. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then they released each other. After looking at one another one more time with affection, the colonel gave another kind smile to her and walked into Klink's office without knocking...as usual.

"You wanted to see me, Kommandant?" Hogan asked.

Klink looked up from doing paper work and gave a scowl.

"Hogan, why don't you ever knock?" He groaned, as he shook his fist.

"Sorry, sir; it's just that I heard that you wanted to see me and didn't wanna keep you waiting any longer than you had to," the American said innocently.

Klink rose to his feet and walked over to his wine cabinet. He pulled out some and poured two glasses for them. Klink walked over and handed Hogan one as he took the other one.

"Hogan, a lot has happened in the past seven months. It's only fair that I fill you in on what happened during your absence." The German colonel started.

"Like what, Kommandant?" Hogan asked, taking a drink of the wine. He made a barely noticeable face at the taste. He was still getting used to eating and drinking less than appealing German delicacies again.

"Oh, the prisoners putting on a talent show, a volleyball tournament...your men messing with my guards," Klink said, unamused about the last part.

"Oh, I'm sure they meant nothing by it, sir." Hogan answered.

"Hogan, Corporal LeBeau and Sergeant Dray played 'knock knock, ditch' on the guards' quarters!"

"Something to amuse themselves. I'm sure they grow bored of doing the same thing everyday."

"Hogan!"

"Just making an observation, Kommandant. I mean, would you like doing the same thing everyday?"

"I _do_ have to do the same thing everyday, had you not noticed."

"Sorry, sir." Hogan took another drink of his wine. While he was not looking, Klink took a drink of his wine and gave a brief smile at his Senior POW officer. Things were finally back to normal in Stalag 13, and Klink was glad to have his Senior POW and friend back again.

* * *

Hours passed since that, and it was now mid-afternoon to early evening. Hogan was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book, while Kinch and LeBeau gave Newkirk a pep talk. The championship volleyball game was today. Carter was outside with the other four on his team making sure everything was set up for them before performing.

"Now, today's the day, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said, as he rubbed Newkirk's shoulders.

"When you go to serve that ball, just imagine it's Hochstetter's face," Kinch added.

"Well, that makes me a _whole_ lot less nervous," Newkirk said, smiling.

The three of them started laughing.

Hogan chuckled, as he watched his three men.

"You're gonna do just fine, Newkirk," he said, encouraging.

"You think so, sir?" Newkirk asked.

Hogan nodded.

"I'm sure. If you guys can handle the Gestapo and Burkhalter, a championship volleyball game should be a piece of cake," the American officer said.

"Thanks, Gov'nor," Newkirk said, smiling.

Hogan simply smiled and took another drink of his coffee.

The door to the barracks opened, and Carter walked in with the volleyball in the crook of his right arm.

"Come on, guys. The game's about to start," the young sergeant said, excited.

"Those guys are going down," LeBeau said, with enthusiasm.

"With Newkirk's spikes, I'll be amazed if they last the first round," Kinch said, with a wink.

Newkirk smiled and got to his feet. The four of them turned to Hogan.

"You gonna come watch, Gov'nor?" The Englishman asked.

Hogan smirked.

"Sure; it'll be fun to see my prediction come true."

"Let's go, guys!" Carter cheered.

The five of them walked out of the barracks and closed the door. Hogan and his men headed over to the volleyball court and began to watch the championship volleyball game.


End file.
